Universal Constants
by Alatar Maia
Summary: Dean had a decent life. He had an awesome little brother, and even if his parents are a little distant now what's there to complain about? Except...then he meets Castiel. And even though he knows it's impossible, Dean has the nagging feeling that he's met Cas before. And then Dean wakes up. And the whole cycle starts all over again. T for Dean's foul mouth.
1. The Chance Meeting

**I actually had this idea during class one day, and immediately went 'holy crap I have to write this down'. And thus, this story was born.**

**Not much of the main plot here, but believe me...it's coming!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

Dean woke up with a vague sense that he'd had some sort of weird dream last night, but another sense told him he always felt like that and so he brushed it off and went about with his normal business.

The coffeeshop was still pretty busy, even at six AM on a college campus, but it was a Starbucks and not many people went to those little mom and pop shops on the really far edges of the campus because it was just easier to go to the Starbucks when you were tired and had to go to class.

"Hello?" Dean realized with a start that he'd reached the front of the line while musing over why there were so many people in front of him, and grinned sheepishly at the barista.

"Sorry, drifted off there."

"That's alright." The barista smiled back hesitantly, but it was more a brief tug at the corners of his mouth than anything else and holy shit his eyes were blue how had Dean not noticed that. "What can I get you?"

Dean reeled off his order, a fold of bills already in his hand, and the man nodded and went about putting Dean's drink together.

It took about twenty minutes to get out of there and to his first class, and Dean didn't realize what he'd set in motion.

* * *

Dean went back the next day.

Of course he did, he had morning classes on Tuesdays too and he always got coffee in the morning regardless of his class schedule but for some reason today felt more momentous.

Dean walked in the door, saw the blue-eyed barista again, and realized exactly what was so important about getting coffee.

"Oh, hello."

"Hey." Dean grinned again.

"Same as yesterday?"

"Yup."

When the barista tried to give Dean his change, he dumped it in the tip jar with a wink and noticed that the guy's nametag said Cas.

* * *

"So, uh, is your name seriously Cas?"

Dean had started to make a habit of coming to that particular Starbucks whenever it didn't go incredibly out of his way [and it was just because that place did his drink the best shut up] and today he'd managed to catch Cas on his break, which was a lucky upside because he'd been running late and thought he'd missed Cas's shift.

"It's my nickname," Cas explained, looking up from the textbook he was flipping through.

"So what's your full name?"

"I feel like I should know yours before I tell you that."

"Picky." Dean extended his hand. "I'm Dean."

"Nice to meet you properly, then, instead of from across the counter." Cas shook his hand. "If you must know, it's Castiel."

"_Castiel?"_

"My parents are very religious."

Dean shook his head and whistled. "Dude, I think I like Cas better."

"Most people do find it less unwieldy."

"Whatcha reading there, anyway?"

"I'm studying for an exam I have tomorrow." Castiel lifted the book so Dean could see the title - it was some nonsense about mythology.

"In what?"

"My mythology course." Dean had guessed right.

"This place offers mythology courses?"

Castiel made his almost-grin again. "Yes, or else I am playing an elaborate prank on you."

"Nah, no one would buy _that _thing just for a prank." Dean gestured to the book, and his watch flashed at him as he did so. "Shit! Sorry, Cas, I gotta go!" He leaped up from the seat. "See you tomorrow!"

It was only as he was sprinting towards [what he hoped was] the right building that Dean wondered why he liked spending so much time with Castiel.

* * *

"Hello, Dean."

Dean almost jumped out of his seat and spun around, nearly knocking over one of those library carts full of books next to the end of the table. "Shit, Cas, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Apologies." Castiel circled the table and slid into the unoccupied seat on the other side of Dean. "I've been told I can be...quiet at times."

"Yeah, no kidding." Dean snorted, closing the book he'd been halfheartedly paging through in favor of much more interesting wastes of time. "How'd you know I was here?"

"You told me you had a study period at this time. I assumed study would involve the library."

Dean's mouth twitched into a grin. "Yeah, well, lucky you chose today, 'cause normally it doesn't."

"I'll keep that in mind." Catiels had leaned forward slightly over the table, arms propping his head up. "I felt that, as we had a talk about my study habits a while ago-"

"Whoa, Cas, lighten up. Anyone ever tell you you sound like you came out of an old-fashioned novel?" Dean asked.

"Many times, actually, but I don't see the connection."

This time Dean actually laughed out loud, hastily muffling himself when the librarian shot him a glare. Cas watched him, puzzled.

"I don't understand. Was it something I said?"

"Dude, just - do you get out at all?"

"I believe we are both 'out' right now." God help him, Castiel used actual air quotes around the word 'out', and Dean had to fight not to burst out laughing again.

"What?"

"Just stop talking before you get us kicked out of the library."

* * *

Meeting Castiel at Starbucks and then sitting and talking outside once his shift was over became a regular occurrence [except the latter was only on Wednesdays and Fridays, because that was the only time they both had free].

They talked about all sorts of things - the topic never really was brought up, they just talked and it happened.

"Batman? You've never seen _Batman?"_

"I have not seen a great many things-"

"'A great many'? Dude, you're nineteen and you talk like you're forty. Loosen up!"

* * *

"I just don't see the point in spending so much time on a car - Dean, where are you going?"

"To find someone who appreciates Baby!"

* * *

"So you're here on scholarship?"

"Yep. No other way to get in unless I want to borrow a fuckton of money. You?"

"Partial scholarship. My family has some...influence."

"Influence, huh?"

"My father was an alumni of this place. Most of my siblings have chosen to go here as well. It's something of a...family tradition."

"Siblings? How many d'you got?"

"Many. My parents were...very traditional. Michael, Zachariah, Joshua-"

"Whoa. You weren't kidding when you said a lot. All your siblings go here?"

"Not all of them."

"Who didn't?"

"Luke. Gabriel. Anna. I'm not actually sure where any of them are right now...my mother can be very insistent, and they all left to pursue their respective chosen fields...and attend different schools."

"Yikes."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"Do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, sure. Little brother. Name's Sam. He's at Stanford, actually - freaking genius. He's going into law."

"Oh, that's quite a difficult path."

"Yeah, tell you what, though - he got a full ride."

"Quite an accomplishment."

"Yeah, mom's-"

"Dean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. Anyway, we were all super proud of him."

* * *

Dean couldn't have explained why it felt so weird to refer to his mom in the present tense, but it did.

* * *

The phone was ringing.

It was three AM and his phone was ringing.

Grumbling, Dean extended his hand, smacked it into his desk, and found his phone while cursing fluently and hoping he didn't wake up his roommate.

"H'lo?"

"_Dean?"_

"Cas, wh-" Dean glanced at the clock. "Why are you callin' me at three in the morning?"

_"I require your help."_

"Help?" That made Dean sit straight up in bed. "Help with what, Cas?"

_"My sister - Anna - she's here right now. It's too complicated-" _Castiel's voice broke. "_Dean, please, I can't handle this on my own-"_

"Yeah, I'm comin'." Dean was already fumbling for his shirt and damnit, where had it gone? He was sure he'd thrown it over there last night - no, those were his jeans. Nevermind. "What's wrong with her?"

He could hear Castiel exhale shakily. _"Just - I don't know for sure."_

"Is she hurt?"

_"Just come, Dean. Please."_

* * *

When Castiel opened the door of his tiny apartment, Dean was soaking wet.

"Are you okay?"

"It started raining, and I don't own an umbrella. Your sister okay?" Dean asked in a rush.

Castiel looked paler than usual. "Yes - um - I think I may have panicked."

"What?"

"Dean, it was - I appreciate you coming-"

Dean saw what Castiel was about to say in a heartbeat. "No. No way, dude. I came all the way here in a freakin' thunderstorm, you better be ready to explain what the hell is going on!" He shouldered his way into Castiel's apartment.

"Dean, please, I overreacted, I panicked-"

"Why?" Dean demanded, swinging around to face Castiel. "Why panic? Cas, you can't just call me all freaked out like that and expect me to leave!" He stomped through to where he knew the kitchen must be, ignoring Castiel's sudden wide eyes and his trying to tug Dean away.

Dean stopped of his own accord for two reasons.

One, this was not the kitchen. It was the living room.

Two, there was a redheaded girl lying on the sofa.

And bleeding over.

"What the _actual hell, _Cas?" Dean hissed, backing up slightly because if the girl was as bad as she looked, then there was no way he was going to wake her up.

Castiel looked resigned. "Dean - come into the kitchen, please."

"You better have a really good explanation."

The kitchen was as sparse as the rest of the apartment, and Dean sat on a stool and glared at the countertop while Castiel moved around, putting together something from the cabinets. Dean only looked up when a cup of something hot and brown - not coffee, the smell was wrong - was placed in his line of sight.

Castiel took a seat opposite Dean, his own cup cradled in his hands. "I suppose you'd like an explanation."

"Yeah," Dean said tersely. "Your sister's like that and you don't want help?"

Castiel sighed. "It's more complicated than that, Dean."

"How is it complicated?"

Castiel didn't answer.

"Cas, come on." Dean pleaded. "I'm your friend! What the hell happened to her?"

"Michael." The word was said so quietly that Dean barely caught it.

"Michael?" He repeated, nonplussed. "Who's Michael?"

Castiel was staring determinedly at his cup. "My brother."

It took Dean a moment to process this. "Wh - your _brother _did this to her?" The Winchesters might have been a bit of a weird family - Dean couldn't say with a clear conscience that his Dad was the best - but he couldn't imagine himself or his dad doing anything like that to Sam. "How d'you know?"

"Anna managed to tell me before she passed out."

Dean still had trouble processing it. "And you're telling me you're just _cool _with your brother beating up your sister?"

"Don't you dare." Suddenly Castiel was glaring at him, and Dean came to the sudden realization that his friend could be kind of terrifying. "Don't you _dare_ accuse me of that. If I could have done anything-" Castiel's voice cracked and another realization struck Dean - Castiel's eyes were red.

Cautiously, Dean leaned across the table towards his friend. "Cas, talk to me."

"It's a long story." Castiel took a while to respond.

"We got time." Dean realized he might be pushing too hard. "It's okay if you don't-"

"No, I-" Castiel took a breath. "You deserve an explanation."

* * *

"Michael, he, uh, he always loved our father. I know that's expected but he really did. Our mother was sort of in the background, my whole life - she took care of us all, but I don't think any of us really appreciated it.

"Luke was the second youngest - he always looked up to Michael, the two of them were off somewhere most of the time. I don't know what they were doing. But, um, one day Luke did something bad enough - I still don't know what, Michael wasn't involved - and Father got really angry. There was a really big argument, which ended with Michael yelling that if Luke was going to...do things like that, then he might as well go somewhere else to do them. And, ah, Luke left. Michael was very broken up about it, but none of us knew to what extent for sure.

"Michael stayed. He graduated. But things were never really the same. I think Michael blamed himself for Luke leaving, but there's no way to be sure since I was never stupid enough to ask him about it. Our Father went somewhere some time after this and never returned, and my mother basically took over the household. Anyone who wanted to do something other than what she wanted them to do, left. They weren't welcome.

"Gabriel was the next to leave. In the nighttime. We all woke up and there was a note on the counter with his signature. I have no idea what happened to him.

"Anna was after that. She wanted to go to art school. Up until now, I hadn't had any contact with her.

"Anyway, uh, about Michael...I think he became a police officer, sometime after my mother received a notification that Luke had been sent to jail. But, um, if he ran into Anna and thought that she was doing something that might lead her down the same path as Luke...I wouldn't put it past him to try and 'correct' her."

* * *

Dean listened with growing disbelief and something like regret, before the emotion fully manifested itself as sympathy. It took him a few moments to see that Castiel had stopped talking.

"Dude, that's fucked up."

Castiel made a noncommittal face and glanced towards the living room again.

"You just-" Dean stuttered, nearly loosing his train of thought. "Cas, that's like your entire freaking life story, and you're not bothered at all?"

"Well, unlike you, I've had time to get used to the situation." Castiel said flatly.

"No, but Cas, you - you realize that that's not what a family's supposed to be like."

"I do." Castiel's voice was heavy. "Are you done, Dean?"

Dean opened his mouth, closed it, and then sat back in his chair, staring at the now-cold cup that he hadn't taken a single sip out of.

"Yeah."

* * *

For a while, things seemed alright. Anna had settled in fine and showed no inclination to leave Castiel's apartment, despite having recovered quite well, and went so far as to go job-hunting to pitch in with the rent.

And then there was the news report.

Fortunately, Dean was in the Starbucks when Castiel froze, in the middle of handing him his usual coffee, eyes fixed on something over Dean's shoulder. Dean twisted and saw that Castiel was staring at a news report playing on the sole TV. The subtitles informed him that someone named Luke Milton had just escaped from prison, and should not be approached under any circumstances except by trained officers.

Oh, hell.

* * *

"Cas."

"What."

"Come out."

"No." Something shifted behind the door.

"Cas, I swear, if you're barricading me out-"

"He's what?" Anna, looking wild, darted into Dean's line of vision and rattled the handle. "Castiel, let me in!"

"No."

"It's my apartment too!"

"Cas, come on," Dean wheedled. "I don't care about your fucking brother-"

Anna turned wide eyes on Dean. "You should."

"What?" Dean looked down at her. "Why?"

"Because it means Michael will be furious." Anna flinched at the quiet words from behind the door, and Dean put out a hand to steady her.

"Cas, what are you talking about?"

"Michael hates Luke." Anna reminded Dean quietly, staring at the floor. "If Luke broke out of jail...then he'll do whatever it takes to get him back in."

Dean swallowed. That had sounded ominous. "When you say 'whatever it takes'..."

"Then it means Michael won't care what he has to do - or who he has to do in - to put Luke back behind bars."

* * *

Dean had been through a lot of shit in the past few weeks. Especially with trying to help Castiel out with all of his family shit. And trying to keep Sam out of it, even though the kid still emailed and called a lot and Dean _knew _he thought something was up.

And maybe the last few days were a little fuzzy, since he hadn't been sleeping all that well.

But he still could not, for the life of him, exactly recall how he'd ended up lying on a sofa.

That might have had to do with the fact that he vaguely remembered being knocked out.

And Jesus fucking Christ, was he tied up? Dean wriggled around and discovered that yes, he was, and very well since he could barely move.

"Oh, you are awake!" The overly cheerful voice made Dean freeze, but he was positioned so that he was staring at the back of the sofa and couldn't see who was talking. "I thought it was taking a while, but it's not like I've actually done this before."

"Who the hell are you?"

The voice tsked. "Like I'd tell you. You can call me Loki, though."

The name sounded vaguely familiar, and Dean racked his mind. "Isn't that the guy in the Avengers movie?"

The voice huffed irritably. "That's what _everyone _says. Honestly. Loki is way cooler than that, but nobody bothers with the myths anymore."

"Um, okay then." Dean's mind backtracked to the more important aspects of the situation. "Why the hell am I tied up?"

"Oh, I just didn't want to be seen. And despite my awesomeness, you'd probably manage to turn around if I didn't, so...tied up it is!" Dean didn't think anyone had a right to sound that cheerful. "And now onto the main reason for me intruding on your hospitality."

"Hospi..." Wait, what? Come to think of it, this sofa looked kind of familiar. "Did you break into my house and tie me up?" He screeched into the cushions.

The person laughed - Dean thought it was a guy, but it was hard to tell. "Please! How much easier could it get? You gave your friend Castiel keys, after all, I just borrowed them."

_Cas? _"What the hell have you done to Cas?"

"Nothing." The playful way the person said that made Dean think he was lying. "Nothing much, anyway." Oh, this guy was so dead. "But in any case, you know messing around with Michael might get ya killed, right?"

"What?" This wasn't making any sense. "How the - you mean Cas's brother?"

"Yes," The voice said, suddenly severe, "And I know you know about all that by now, so I'm telling you to leave well enough alone."

"No way, dude, Cas is my friend. I'm not just gonna leave him with all this shit hangin' over his head."

The person sighed. "You don't get it, do you? Castiel might have gone here like he was supposed to, but he's done a hell of a lot else. Helping Anna. Befriending you. You have no idea how much of an effect you've had on his life, do you?"

"How the hell do you know all that?"

"Get some more interesting insults. It's getting irritating to keep being told to go to Hell." The playful tone was gone as quickly as it had reappeared. "Seriously, Dean. Luke might be the outcast, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like order as much as the rest of 'em. He and Michael both would kill Castiel as soon as convert him."

"_Convert _him? The fuck are you talking about? How do you even know any of this, anyway?" Dean demanded.

"I have my ways. And my reasons." The voice faded slightly, as if the person speaking had turned around or walked away a little bit. "You can sit on that, anyway."

"What?"

"Have fun with that!" The voice was even fainter, and most definitely laughing at him now. Dean heard a creak and started writhing furiously.

"You fucking - get back here and untie me!"

His only answer was raucous laughter and a rustling thump. Dean wriggled enough to get himself off the sofa and hit the ground with a thump that drove the air out of his lungs. Coughing, he saw the window hanging open, and scowled furiously at it.

Now what?

* * *

After seriously considering what had happened, Dean thought he had a fairly good idea of who the mysterious visitor was.

"Hey, Cas?"

_"Oh - hello, Dean. Um, now is not the best time."_

"What? Why?"

"_Well, I'm pretty sure my brother Gabriel just broke in and covered the apartment in candy wrappers."_

Dean scowled again, even though Castiel couldn't see it. "Lemme guess - he stole your keys to my place, too?"

"_What?" _There was a faint rusting sound and some footsteps. _"Oh my - how did you-"__  
_

"Long story short, I'm pretty sure I just met your brother too."

There was a long pause, and then Dean heard Castiel swear faintly and then let out a long sigh. _"I apologize for him."_

"Yeah, no offense, but Gabriel's a dick." Dean rubbed his hand absentmindedly - the rope had turned out to be just some fabric left over from the last time he'd had a party [and he'd rather not think about that disaster right now] and had been easier to get out of than he'd expected.

"_What did he do?"_

"Long story short? He tied me up and told me to bail on you or else I'd get myself killed."

There was a long silence from the other end of the phone.

"Cas?"

"_I'm still here." _Castiel's voice didn't sound any different. "_It's just...surprising that Gabriel would say something like that."_

"Yeah, well, he's your brother. I'll take your word for it."

"_He really tied you up?"_

"Unfortunately? Yes. Like I said. Your brother's a dick."

"_That does apply to most of them." _Dean had no opportunity to reply to this, because Castiel kept talking. _"Again, Dean, I'm sorry about that. I'll call you back later."_

" 'Bye, Cas." The click of someone hanging up interrupted Dean's farewell.

"...Okay then."

* * *

When Dean thought back on the events that led to where he was now, he really didn't see how they could have changed this outcome.

Because however he spun it, he couldn't see himself just leaving Castiel to this scenario.

"Dean?" Castiel spoke hoarsely, incredulity clear. "What are you doing here?"

"Shut up." Dean had put himself firmly in between Castiel and the blond man who stood at the center of the room, but the latter was smirking in a way that he didn't like.

"Little Castiel's friend," he crooned in a way that sent shivers up Dean's spine and shit, this guy was giving him 'crazy' vibes. "How brave of you."

"Shut up!" This time it wasn't Dean who had spoken, but the brown-haired man in a uniform that Dean guessed was Michael. He was pointing a gun at the blond one, and there was no shake to betray any hesitation he might have felt. He didn't seem to be paying attention to Dean or Castiel at all, and Dean took advantage of that as the blond man's attention slid to Michael - presumably, the blond was Luke.

"Oh, is that how this is going to be?" Luke asked mildly.

"I told you to be quiet." Michael hissed. "But you just think you can do whatever you want, don't you?"

"I escaped from prison. I think I'm entitled. Could you have done that? Oh wait-" Luke's eyes flickered down slightly, and Dean guessed that he was looking at something on Michael's uniform. "You won't need to. At least, not until you try and kill me."

"Try?" Michael's voice had taken on a steely tone. "You assume I won't be able to succeed."

"Oh, I have no doubt you'll _try, _Michael, but unfortunately you overestimate yourself." Luke grinned lopsidedly, but it was more creepy than endearing. "More importantly, you underestimate me." Luke's eyes shifted again, this time towards Castiel [who was still behind Dean]. "Maybe our little Castiel will help me prove that."

Dean almost wasn't sure what happened next.

Luke had lunged towards Castiel, Dean had moved in between them, Castiel had screamed something, and then there was the umistakable [and much louder than it ever was on TV] bang of a gun.

Dean thought he might have been shot, but things were fading to fast for him to keep track of. There was definitely something red on his chest, though, but it didn't hurt.

Castiel was reaching towards him with a look of horror and ow, Dean was definitely feeling a little bit of pain, but it didn't hurt that much, why was Castiel so worried? Dean vaguely registered that the blond man - Luke, his brain dimly recalled - was looking in shock not at him, but at the man holding the gun, who didn't look like he was feeling anything at all.

Then things faded for good, and neither did Dean.

* * *

The sound of the alarm startled Dean so badly that he flailed in bed for a minute before managing to smack the _off _button. He'd woken up with the vague sense that he'd had some sort of weird dream last night, but another sense told him he always felt like that and so he brushed it off. His chest cramped slightly as he sat up, and Dean rubbed it absentmindedly, frowning.

It felt like he'd forgotten something really important, but nothing was coming to mind.

Ah, well. He'd remember it eventually. If not, what did it matter if it wasn't important enough to try and commit to memory?

A sudden flash went through his brain. _Oh right, _Dean thought. _Today's the first day of high school._

Well, that explained why he'd set his alarm in August.

* * *

**...Well? What did you think? The ending might be a bit confusing, but I hope I got it across...either way, feel free to message me if you didn't understand.**

**Read and review, please, I love to know what you guys thought!**


	2. High School Sweethearts

**Not a hugely enthusiastic turnout to chapter number one, but that's fine. I didn't expect this to immediately rocket to the standings 'The Accidental Vessel' has hit.**

**Anyway, enjoy chapter number two, and please leave some reviews! I know there's only one [well, two now] chapters so far, but I feel like only a few readers out of more than I expected actually leave reviews. I don't want to feel like I'm guilt-tripping you guys, but it's kind of disappointing when I get one review for every thousand words I write in a story.  
**

** Rated T because Dean swears a lot, even if the actual show tones it down a bit.**

**Kudos if anyone can guess what class they share! Leave a review if you think you've got it. I tried to be subtle so it might be a little difficult.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

Of _course _Dean would end up being late for his first day of senior year.

Not that he really cared, but even _he_ usually bothered to be on time for the first day.

He darted around people in the hallways, having halfhazardly shoved his books into his locker - and _damnit, _he was totally going to be late, but he'd had to drive Sam to school too, and the fancy smart-people high school Sam had gotten into was practically on the other side of town.

Dean, of course, went to the nearest local public school.

Luckily they sent out schedules before school actually started, or Dean would have been even more fucked than he already was.

Everyone in the classroom looked up when the door opened and the teacher frowned disapprovingly as Dean stood there, panting slightly because he'd had to run across the entire goddamned school just to get to his class on time.

"I assume you're Dean Winchester," The teacher said, looking almost amused. "Do you have a pass?"

Dean held up the bright orange pass they'd given him at the door when he came in. The teacher wordlessly held out a hand for it.

"Next time," She said once she'd signed it, "Please try and come at least a little earlier. You may sit next to Mr. Novak, over there."

There was only one open seat, so Dean didn't have to ask who 'Mr. Novak' was but holy crap he could totally deal with this turn of events.

Dean grinned as he dropped his stuff onto the desk and slid into the seat. Novak glanced over and nodded a hello, then returned his attention to the front of the room, where the teacher was getting into a proper lecture.

At least first period wouldn't be too bad this year.

* * *

They had more than one period together.

Dean saw the Novak dude through a gap in the crowd. He was eating alone, which Dean probably could have predicted - just by sitting next to him in that one class he could tell that the guy was a total dweeb. Outline-style notes and everything instead of just scribbling down enough info to pass the subject.

He might have gone over and said hi to the guy, just to spare him the embarrassment of being a senior who still eats lunch alone, but then Jessica Alvarez walked past and Dean suddenly had other things on his mind.

* * *

A note drifted onto Dean's desk a few days later.

_You should probably pay better attention._

Dean stared at it, then glanced at his desk partner, whose handwriting exactly matched the note.

He grabbed the slip and scribbled a reply, shoving it onto Novak's notebook. **_I pay attention._**

A reply was swift in coming. _You were staring off into space and therefore not paying attention while the teacher explains what's going to be on our homework tonight.  
_

**_Ill be able to do it anyway._**

_You'll be able to do it better if you listen._

Who did this guy think he was? Dean had survived three years of high school, thanks very much, he knew how to deal with classes. Dean flicked the paper onto the floor and didn't give it another thought.

* * *

The next note he got from Novak contained the complicated equation the teacher had just erased off the board before Dean could write all of it down.

Dean glanced at Novak and then decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

**_Thanks dude_**

_You're welcome._

Dean decided to go ahead and keep writing.

**_Hey I never found out your first name._**

_It's Castiel._

**_Castiel? What kind of name is that?_**

_Mine. More specifically, it's an angelic name.  
_

Dean snorted and then tried to cover it up when the teacher glared at him. **_Alright, smartypants. I'm just gonna call you Cas._**

_Is that a nickname?  
_

**_Dude you're a senior. You seriously don't know what a nickname is?_**

* * *

_You missed yesterday. Here's the notes from what we did. -Castiel  
_

**_Thanks dude._**

_I'll assume you're referring to the notes I gave you. You're welcome.  
_

**_Why do you have such neat handwriting?_**

_Neatness is important.  
_

**_Whatever you say._**

* * *

**_You doing anything this weekend?_**

_Why?_

**_I'm gonna marathon Batman. You wanna join me? I invited a couple other people._**

_The movies, right?  
_

**_No, the comic books. Yes the movies!_**

_No need to be sarcastic. It sounds entertaining. You invited your friends?  
_

**_Yeah. Why do you think I'm asking you?_**

_Thank you. I will try to be there.  
_

* * *

**_Dude_**

_What?_

**_You okay? You've been zoning out._**

_I'm fine, Dean.  
_

**_You'd say if you weren't, right?_**

_Yes_

**_Took a while for you to write three letters_**

_I said I'm fine, Dean. And I'm also missing this lecture.  
_

* * *

**_Where were you?_**

_I was sick, Dean.  
_

**_I told you you weren't ok monday!_**

_I'm fine now. I took some medicine Tuesday and yesterday and it's mostly cleared up.  
_

**_I'll believe you  
_**

**_for now_**

_I'm sorry for worrying you  
_

**_As long as you don't get me sick too._**

_I don't think I'm contagious at this point.  
_

**_You better not_**_ **be**_

* * *

_Do you want to do something this weekend?_

**_Like what?_**

_Anything._

**_I dunno, Cas, I was gonna work on Baby a little bit_**

**_That's my car! Not an actual baby._**

_Oh, good. For a moment I was worried.  
_

**_I don't 'work' on actual babies. I don't even know what that would involve._**

_Probably nothing good.  
_

* * *

**_How did you do on the test?_**

_Fairly well, I think. Did that study session help you?  
_

**_Hell yeah. I blanked on that last formula, though._**

_We went over this, Dean.  
_

**_Don't rain on my parade. I still did awesome._**

_That's good.  
_

**_I'm gonna go to the Roadhouse after school and celebrate. Want to come?_**

_Isn't that a bar?  
_

**_Yeah, but it's cool. Ellen runs it. She's an old family friend._**

_I don't know.  
_

**_You've seen Jo, right? Ellen's her mom._**

_Jo Harvelle? I think I know her  
_

**_Yeah, see? It's cool. _**

_I'll see if I can.  
_

* * *

"Hey!" Dean raised his drink in salute as Castiel came through the door of the bar nervously, relaxing once he saw Dean. "You made it!"

"Yes," Castiel replied, glancing around and stepping closer to the counter. "Are you the only one here?"

"Nah, there's a party room in the back." Dean gestured, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. "There are a bunch of other people here, too, to y'know, celebrate finals being over. And hey! No school for two weeks."

Castiel smiled. "Doing whatever we want for two weeks."

"Exactly." Dean grinned at the shorter man. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone else."

A decent crowd had already gathered in the party room at the Roadhouse, but the phrase 'decent crowd' mostly meant that the party room actually had people in it instead of being empty, like it usually was. Not a lot of big groups hung out at the Roadhouse, instead preferring the bigger bars downtown. Jo was there, and so was Sam - he'd come down with Dean earlier, but had stayed behind with Jo and Ash when Dean went out in the main room to wait for Castiel.

"Yo, Dean!" Ash was the only one drinking beer, since he was the only one who was old enough to, and under strict orders from Ellen to "Not share a single sip of that drink, boy, or you're never seeing the inside of this bar again." It was a fairly dire threat, considering that Ash also rented out a room on the second floor.

"Hey, Ash." Dean replied, grinning at the older man.

"Who's your friend?" Sam asked, leaning forwards over the table.

"This is Cas," Dean said, giving Castiel a little shove forward.

"Hello." Castiel gave the group a small wave.

"Oh, this is Cas?" Sam asked.

"You told him about me?" Castiel shot Dean a startled look.

"'Course I did. That's my little bro Sammy, and you know Jo-" Jo waved, too, and Castiel looked awkward. "Sort of, at least. And that's Ash in the back."

"Doctor Badass to you," Ash shouted, making the rest of them laugh.

Dean was grinning broadly. "You ain't a doctor of anything, Ash," he hollered back, "You dropped out of college."

"True," Ash said, tipping his bottle to Dean. "But that don't make me any less badass."

"Oh, shut up," Jo snorted. "You're about as badass as my pinkie."

"Considering how badass the rest of you is, I'll take that as a compliment!"

Castiel was grinning when Dean looked over [admittedly it was a very small grin] and looking far less hesitant about the whole party thing than he had when he'd walked into the bar.

* * *

_I enjoyed meeting your friends._

**_Yeah? You could've called me over break. You disappeared off the face of the freaking planet_**

_I apologize. Christmas in my household is a very strictly enforced 'family time'.  
_

**_wow, that sucks._**

_I agree. Some of my family can be unpleasant.  
_

**_yeah I hear that. Always that one asshole relative._**

_That is a bit crude, but I agree nonetheless.  
_

**_So other than that how did it go?_**

_Well enough. Not all of them are unpleasant.  
_

**_Lucky for you then_**

_I suppose it is. Did your Christmas go any better? _

**_Now that you mention it, yes it did._**

* * *

_Dean_

**_What?_**

_Would you like to do something over the weekend?  
_

**_Like what?_**

_Maybe go to a theater. You were talking about the movie you wanted to see the other day.  
_

**_You're asking if I want to go see a movie with you?_**

_I suppose so.  
_

**_Sure_**

_:)_

**_Is that a smiley face?_**

_Yes_

**_Never change, Cas_**

* * *

**_Did you get number 3_**

_We went over that one yesterday, Dean. It was on the homework  
_

**_It was?_**

_Yes. I helped you with it. Remember?_

**_Oh right._**

**_I don't remember the answer  
_**

**_I CAN HEAR YOU SIGHING CAS I SIT NEXT TO YOU_**

* * *

_Why did you bring food?  
_

**_I was hungry_**

_There is a bag of store-bought cookies in your backpack.  
_

**_I didn't have breakfast so I went to the store near here_**

_Cookies are not breakfast, Dean.  
_

**_I say they are_**

_This isn't a debate.  
_

**_It is now. Cookies are breakfast. I had them for breakfast._**

_Having something for breakfast does not make it a breakfast food.  
_

**_You have no imagination._**

_That's not true. I'm imagining you having something real to eat right now. _

**_Who are you, my mother?_**

_I'm allowed to care.  
_

* * *

_Are you okay?_

**_I'm fine_**

_You have a black eye!_

**_Still fine_**

_What happened?  
_

**_Your brother is an asshole_**

_Which one?  
_

**_Gabriel. He punched me and then said something about not hurting you._**

_Oh no  
_

**_What?_**

_Nothing. I'll talk to him.  
_

* * *

"Gabriel!"

"What? Is this about Dean-o? Relax, I barely touched him."

"And you told him not to hurt me?"

"Specifically, I told him that if he hurt you I'd make sure no one ever found the body."

"That wasn't necessary."

"Sure it was. You've never heard of the Big Brother speech?"

"...As in George Orwell?"

"Oh Christ." Sigh. "No, Cassie. As in, when you go out with someone, your older brother gives them a speech where he warns 'em off any crazy behavior. You've never heard of that trope before? You read enough."

"...Dean and I aren't going out."

"Excuse me?"

"We're not-"

"You're telling me that _wasn't _a movie date last month?"

"Uh, not in the sense-"

"You've got to be joking."

"I don't see why you thought we _were."_

"You don't - are you fucking kidding me? I thought you two were going out this whole time and just didn't want to make it 'official'!"

"This whole time?"

"The last few months, at _least-"_

"Excuse me?"

"And you're telling me you still haven't gotten past all that sexual tension?"

"All the what? Gabriel, I think you're-"

"The next word outta your mouth had better not be 'mistaken', little bro."

"..."

"Are you - okay. Listen closely. I don't know if you've realized it, but I have never seen a pair of people who are more obviously in love. Don't interrupt me. I know you know what I'm talkin' about, and I betcha Dean does too - not that he'll admit it, 'cause I've never seen someone more firmly in the closet, which I admit was kinda confusing when I thought you two were going out, but - anyway! Just - get your head outta your ass, would you? And if you need help removing Dean's I'm totally up for that."

"I...don't think that will be necessary."

"Heh. You know exactly how deep you're in this, don't you?"

"Just because Dean is willing to be my friend-"

"Oh, puh-lease. Dean's so deep in the closet he couldn't find his way out if you gave him a map - unless that map was named Castiel, I guess."

"...Please never mention this conversation to him."

"Oho, no way. That's your territory. I am not having _that _kind of discussion with Dean Winchester, thank you very much."

* * *

**_So?_**

_What?_

**_What's up with your dick brother?_**

_I assume you mean Gabriel.  
_

**_Yes, I mean Gabriel. He punched me!_**

_It was a misunderstanding.  
_

**_Misunderstanding? He seemed pretty clear that he had something against me!_**

_Gabriel was mistaken in his reasons.  
_

**_What reasons?_**

_It's nothing.  
_

**_NOTHING?_**

**_Did he threaten you?  
_**

_No._

**_Then what's with you refusing to tell me?  
_**

_Gabriel believed that we were an item.  
_

_Dean?_

**_Seriously?_**

_Yes._

**_He punched me because he thought I was going out with you?_**

_He said something about a big brother speech.  
_

**_Seriously?_**

**_What did you tell him?  
_**

_That we weren't dating. He seemed reluctant to believe me.  
_

**_That's just weird_**

_What, that we could be dating?  
_

**_**_its not because we're both guys_**_**

__I didn't say it was.  
__

**__It__**

**__I don't know__**

**__It's just weird__**

__Because we're friends?  
__

**__Yeah__**

__I know plenty of people who are together and still friends as well as romantically involved.  
__

**__That's not what I__**

**__can we just__**

__If this is making you uncomfortable we can stop  
__

**__yeah__**

* * *

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Your girlfriend's Jess, right?"

"...Yeah. Why are you asking about her?"

"Nothing. No reason."

"Dude, I can tell you're lying."

"I said it's _nothing, _Sam."

"Bullshit."

"Hey, don't swear."

"_You _swear. _And_ you're avoiding the topic. Why'd you bring up Jess?"

"...How'd you know you liked her?"

"...Oh my God. Dean, are you serious?"

"Shut up and answer me, alright?"

"You _like _someone! Like, actually _like _them!"

"If you're gonna be like that, then I'll just leave-"

"No, no!"

"What?"

"I - you're totally serious, right?"

"...Yes."

"Uh...well, I think it sort of depends on the person. But, uh, when I started getting to know Jess a little better, I sort of - got nervous around her, I guess? Like, a good nervous. And you start sort of noticing stuff about them - like, little details, stuff you might not normally notice, and then I guess at one point you just sort of realize that you like them."

"..._Fuck."_

"What?"

"Nothing."

"...Who is it?"

"Shut up, Sam."

"Alright then. Jerk."

"Bitch."

* * *

_Did you start on the project yet?_

**_Yeah, Cas. I've got my half started._**

_Good._

**_Don't panic about this!_**

_Dean, this is worth half our final grade!  
_

**_We'll do fine! And you're paired with me, remember? I'm awesome._**

_And not the best at this subject.  
_

**_Still awesome._**

* * *

_Did you bring it?  
_

**_YES, Cas, I brought my half of the project. Would you calm down about this?_**

_When it's over I will.  
_

**_Calm down! You gotta be cool for the presentation._**

_Right_

**_You're not calming down_**

_I am  
_

**_You're staring at the board like you're about to snap and kill everybody_**

_I apologize for being nervous, Dean, but this is worth half our grade!  
_

**_Yeah, you mentioned that. And I know that already._**

_I'm just making sure  
_

**_Cas. Calm. the fuck. down_**

_I'm trying!  
_

* * *

_That went horribly_

**_It went fine. You did great._**

_No I failed.  
_

**_You DIDN'T. It was great. Better than my half._**

_Your half was fine.  
_

**_See? If I did well enough to pass then so did you._**

_We were working on the same project.  
_

**_exactly._**

_Your reassurance is nice but it's not working.  
_

**_Stop worrying for a sec! Even if you did something wrong, there's nothing you can do about it now._**

_I suppose you're right.  
_

**_Of course I am._**

* * *

**_Hey Cas_**

_What?_

**_Why did Gabriel think we were dating?_**

_He gave me several reasons.  
_

_Why?_

**_Nothing._**

* * *

**_What if we were, though?_**

* * *

_Dean_

_Are you asking me out?_

* * *

**_Yeah._**

* * *

_:)_

* * *

**_You are such a dork._**

* * *

_But now I'm your dork.  
_

* * *

Somehow, Dean and Sam had ended up at Castiel's house.

Dean wasn't really sure how, but it was probably intended to be a study session, and then he had to watch Sam last-minute even though Sam was in high school and probably old enough to watch himself at this point, so he brought his brother over to Castiel's with him and now they were sitting here awkwardly and Dean just really wanted to kiss Castiel because _hot damn._

What did he _do _to his hair to get it like that?

Dean was partly turned on, and partly jealous.

"Sooo..." Sam peered over the biology book he was using to do his own homework. "What exactly are you guys working on?"

"Nerd stuff," Gabriel said out of the corner of his mouth, since the rest of it was occupied with a lollipop. Dean wasn't sure why _he _was here, either, but Gabriel had shown up with a grin on his face, apologized in an incredibly roundabout manner for the black eye without ever really saying 'sorry', plopped himself down at the table, and proceeded to consume half a bag of mixed candy while the rest of them did work.

"It's for class," Castiel answered without raising his eyes from the worksheet. "We share the class and it's nice to have a second opinion on things."

Well, that was better than Dean having to admit that he needed Castiel to check over his homework because he missed directions sometimes or did the wrong problem.

"Whatever," Gabriel said lazily, the words muffled through his candy.

Dean ignored the older Novak and bent closer over his own worksheet. "So for this one you have to do-"

"No, you can't multiply that yet, you have to finish the first step before you can-"

"But I thought-"

"Listen to you two trip over each other!" Gabriel huffed. "Do you ever actually get anything done?"

"When you're not here," Castiel replied evenly, and Dean slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter at the offended look on Gabriel's face.

"Fine," Gabriel grumbled. "I see when I'm not wanted."

"Then why don't you leave?" Dean suggested. "So, y'know, we _can _get stuff done."

"Are you sure you don't want me to give you privacy for some other reason?" _Damn _Gabriel. His eyes were glinting like mad, like he was in on some big secret. Sam was frowning at Gabriel, confused.

"No," Dean ground out, and Castiel managed to blush slightly and look disapproving at the same time, which was quite a feat.

"Oh come on." Gabriel was grinning now, too, the bastard. "Just because you're so deep you're halfway through Narnia by now-"

Sam coughed in a poor disguise of his laughter, but Dean settled for narrowing his eyes at Gabriel. "I am _not _in the closet!"

"Oh yeah?" Gabriel challenged. "Prove it."

Dean leaned over, grabbed the front of Castiel's shirt and kissed him.

Sam's mouth dropped open. Gabriel's lollipop almost fell.

"Castiel, you lying bastard," he said, sounding almost admiring. "And you said you weren't together!"

Castiel broke away from Dean, looking even more embarrassed and flushed, which Dean thought was adorable. "We weren't," he said, panting. Sam still looked like his eyes were about to bug out.

"I guess I know who you were asking about, then," Sam muttered to himself, and only Dean heard him, since Gabriel was too busy relentlessly teasing Castiel.

"Shut up."

"Hey-" Gabriel paused to stare at Dean intensely. "You know that warning still applies, right?"

Dean remembered the warning. And the accompanying black eye. "Got it."

* * *

_**Guess what?**  
_

_What?_

**_I got my acceptance letter!_**

_Really?_

**_Yeah! Kansas Uni!_**

_That's excellent, Dean. I told you you'd get in._

**_I didn't know for sure whether or not I would_**

_I had every confidence in you. And I was right, wasn't I?  
_

**_Yeah_**

* * *

**_I'm gonna miss you next year_**

_What if we go to the same college?_

**_You're too smart for that, Cas. Don't go to a college too dumb for you just for me._**

_What if I want to?  
_

**_Going to different colleges won't be the end of the world._**

_It might as well be.  
_

_You're blushing very strongly, Dean._

**_Shut up_**

* * *

_Are you ready for graduation?  
_

**_Fuck no. I can't believe the year's almost over_**

_It has gone by rather fast.  
_

**_I always thought I was gonna drop out. I think everyone else did too_**

_You underestimate yourself. Aren't you getting an A in this class?  
_

**_That's because you helped._**

_Not that much, if I remember our last 'tutoring' session correctly.  
_

**_That was fun._**

_Fun, not productive.  
_

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, the graduating class of 2014!"

* * *

Dean grinned, one arm over Castiel's shoulders. "Here we are, man! We made it!"

Castiel was grinning, too, and had taken off his robe to reveal a suit with a blue tie. Dean thought someone must have picked it out for him because it matched his eyes and Castiel wasn't nearly that good with clothes.

Neither was Dean, but hey, he was allowed to appreciate his boyfriend.

"We should celebrate," Dean said.

"How?"

"I dunno. Go somewhere. Just the two of us."

"Somewhere?" Castiel was still smiling.

"Anywhere. Just the two of us, Cas, doing whatever the hell we want."

"We both have college next year. I've already signed up for classes."

"So we'll be back in time for your nerd school. Whattaya say?"

A grin. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

* * *

**Well?**

**Read and review, please!**


	3. High Seas and Love (Maybe)

**Glad to see this is gaining some attention! I know some of you were a little confused by the plot, but don't worry! It will all be explained.**

**...Eventually.**

**One reviewer likened it to the Mystery Spot, which is fairly accurate. But to clear some things up; this is not a bunch of separate one-shots. This is one continuous story.**

**Just making sure you know that before we continue!**

**I had to do a lot of research for this chapter, so this is definitely the result of a lot more effort than the last one! Not quite as fluffy, either. With that said, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

Dean woke to the feeling that he was being rocked, and a scented breeze drifting in through his window.

There was a brief moment of disorientation where he frowned at his surroundings in utter confusion.

Bed. He was lying on some sort of cot. There was a round, open window through which blue sky was visible, and it was also the source of the breeze. Dean reached up a hand and shut it firmly.

The word _Cas _flickered through his mind in search of something to grab onto and stay, but it was there for only a moment and then Dean was frowning even more fiercely.

He'd dreamed something odd. Was that what 'Cas' was? A nonsense word from a dream?

His mind said no, but Dean dismissed the whole issue as ridiculous. Dreams were just that - dreams. There was no use paying any heed to them.

The floor beneath his feet was still rocking, but of course it was - he was on a boat, after all. Why wouldn't it be? That dream must have screwed with his perceptions, because suddenly Dean knew exactly what was going on.

How could he have thought otherwise?

There was a knock on the door of his cabin, and Dean turned to one side, half sitting up and throwing the covers back. "What?" His own voice shocked him for a moment, which was odd, because why would his voice sound weird to himself?

But there was another mental voice insisting that _no way, dude, my voice does not sound like that!_

The actual, real voice outside his door distracted Dean from his thoughts. "Ship to port, cap'n. First mate wants to know what to do."

"Tell him to make his own damn decisions!" Dean shouted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and fumbling for his clothes. "I'll be up in a mo'!"

* * *

Most of the men were still belowdecks, but the first mate was waiting for him when Dean got topside.

"That ship?" It was barely a dot on the horizon. "I swear, if you got me out of bed for _that-"_

"It was closer only a minute ago." Sam retorted. He was the only one on the ship who could answer back to Dean like that and not get tossed overboard. "It's not my fault you take so long to get ready."

Dean shot him a dirty look. "Well, there's no point in going after it _now." _He turned around to go back below, when he noticed Sam staring at something. "What?"

"Is that another ship?" Dean turned back around. There was another dot on the horizon, except the wind was blowing towards them from the same direction it was coming and it was growing larger at a steady rate.

"It's coming towards us," Sam said in alarm, and Dean scoffed.

"I doubt they can even see us, the sun'll be in their eyes. They must be going towards the other ship."

And indeed, the ship was changing course, abandoning the favorable wind and setting off after the other faintly-visible ship - but something was wrong.

Dean was aware that his hands were clenching the deck of the ship, and behind him Sam sucked in a breath.

Despite leaving the tailwind behind, the ship hadn't slowed down in the least. If anything, it was going faster.

Absolute rage bloomed over Dean. Th_e_re's only one ship that can do something like that - and if _that_ ship was really only scant miles in front of him, then he wasn't about to let it get away again.

The _Black Witch._

The demon's ship.

"Hard to port!" Sam was already running belowdecks to get everyone else and Dean practically charged up the stairs to the aft deck where the wheel stood, polished to a shine. The lone man in the crow's nest was practically falling down the rigging in his hurry to get to the deck.

"What are we doing?" he hollered at Dean, stumbling as he hit the deck. Dean was already spinning the wheel, his masterful knowledge of how to work the ship sending it turning slowly, cutting through the water towards the two distant ships.

"We're fighting," Dean said, teeth bared in a grin. "Ash, get everyone up - we need all hands on deck!"

"Aye, aye!" Ash sprinted off just as Sam came back out, followed by a crowd of eager crewmen with various kinds of blades and pistols that had either found their way into the crew's hands or been stolen. Very few had actually been bought.

One of the advantages of being a pirate.

The ships were drawing steadily closer, the wind having died down a bit, but Dean watched them come into visibility with a jolt. The _Black Witch _was there, alright - but she wasn't the one doing the chasing.

She was the ship being chased.

The one which had caught his attention with its abnormal speed was one Dean had never seen before. It was painted white and looked in prime condition - golden letters near the hull spelled out _Shield of Heaven._

He'd never heard of this ship before, especially not in the context of another one that possessed the same mysterious sailing abilities as the _Black Witch._

But if it did, then there was no way it was good news.

"Raise the red pennant!" No prisoners taken, no quarter given. They were steering obviously for the _Black Witch - _Dean mentally dared the crew of the _Shield _to intervene.

Whoever was on that ship was his prey. The _Shield _was just in the way.

The _Impala _was in front of both of the ships, but both were going much faster than any normal ship and Dean spun the wheel again in what felt like a natural movement to draw even with the _Witch _while still getting even closer.

And then, they stopped.

Dead in the water, despite the fact that they had been moving at a decent speed only seconds previously.

"What?" Dean let go of the wheel in surprise, and then strode over to the railing and bent over it, shouting at the men who had stopped in confusion on the deck. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know!" Ash scrambled up the rigging slightly to get a better look, peering around at the waters which surrounded them. "There's nothing I can see that caused it!"

The _Witch _was drawing past them, too far away to be boarded, and Dean felt the familiar rage bubble up at the fact that it had escaped again.

Of course, his attention - and the attention of his crew - was immediately distracted by a much closer ship, and the man tumbling onto their deck.

He was immediately surrounded by Dean's crew, and stood slowly, not looking particularly inconvenienced by this turn of events. Dean descended from the aft deck leisurely, disguising the anger that was now directing itself at the intruder because if the crew of the _Shield _could do the same things as the _Witch, _then _one_ of those ships had to be responsible for the sudden becalming of the _Impala._

And Dean's money was on the man who had just jumped onto _his _ship.

He walked down the stairs slowly, eyes trained on the dark-haired man. He seemed perfectly at ease, even while held at swordpoint by a dozen or so men.

"What should we do with him?" Benny asked in his languid accent, glancing at Dean without letting his sword waver.

"Keep him there for a moment," Dean said, locking eyes with the man. "Who are you?"

The man didn't reply, only studied the ship with unemotional eyes. Dean scowled fiercely and turned on his heel, jacket fanning out.

"Take him belowdecks."

"Aye." He could hear Benny calling commands, and didn't need to look to recognize the set of footsteps that had fallen in next to him.

"This becalming can't last long, not when the ships are going so far away." Sam's voice was sympathetic, edged with anger. "I can't _believe _she got away again."

"Don't remind me," Dean growled. "I want you to make that man talk. His ship is responsible for this."

"Are you sure it wasn't the _Witch?"_

"That white ship was going just as fast. I want to know who they are." Dean paused at the end of the hallway that ran through the ship, and Sam stopped at almost the exact same time. "I'll be in my cabin."

"I'll let Benny know."

"I don't want him disturbing me. Tell him he's taking the ship."

Sam nodded once and set back off for the deck. Dean opened the nearest door - his cabin was the easiest to get to, but barricaded in case of attack - and slammed the door.

He'd get answers out of that man if it killed him.

* * *

There was a knock at his door.

Dean tipped his head back, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes. Damn. He must have stayed up too late last night. "I told you, I don't want t'be bothered!"

"It's me." That was Sam's voice. "He's said something."

That made Dean sit bolt upright, swinging his legs off the desk. "What did he say? Come in," he added at the end.

The door swung open to reveal a frustrated-looking Sam with bloody knuckles. "He says he'll only speak to the captain."

Dean growled and sat up, grabbing his jacket off the chair and remembering to drape his sword belt across his chest.

"Will you really need that?"

"Depends on how talkative he is." Dean brushed past Sam. "Get something for your hands. I'll talk to you later."

Reluctantly, Sam nodded. "Good luck. There's something...weird about him."

Dean paused. "Weird, like that one captive we took from the _Witch _weird?"

"Sort of. I left a guard with him, to make sure nothing happened." Sam shook his head. "I don't think he's one of their crew, though."

"Well, we'll find out what he is soon enough."

* * *

The man didn't look as beaten up as Dean had expected, but still raised his head when Dean entered.

"Your brother thinks he's very persuasive," Was the first thing he said. Jo was still lurking in the corner, but stayed out of the way.

"You're talking, aren't you?" Dean regarded the man warily. How did he know that Sam was his brother?

"Because I chose to." Even with the man sitting down, stripped of most of his clothing, and in chains, Dean still didn't feel in charge of the conversation. He unsheathed his sword in an attempt to remedy that, resting the tip lightly against the man's shoulder.

"Who are you?" He asked. The man stared up at him, not shaken in the least.

"My name is Castiel."

For some reason, the name struck a chord within Dean, and the word _Cas _threaded through his mind again, but he shook it off and stayed still.

"That's not what I meant," he growled. "_What _are you?" Behind him, he saw Jo stiffen. She knew as much about the _Witch _as the rest of the crew - it was a briefing every new sailor got - but she still knew far less than Dean or Sam did.

"I'm no demon." Castiel said calmly. "My captain was chasing the _Witch - _as I'm sure you noticed."

"Yeah, I noticed." Dean pressed his sword in harder, but if what Sam had said was true - and judging by Castiel's face - it wasn't doing anything. "Right before I noticed that you becalmed our ship."

"We were going to engage the _Witch _in a fight." Castiel replied. "It would have been unwise for you to get involved."

"_Unwise?" _Dean pulled his arm back and slashed his sword, leaving a red line on Castiel's cheek. His head turned to one side slightly, and one hand jerked against the chains that held it over his head, as if he'd tried to reach down to feel his face.

"It is also _unwise_ to anger me," Dean hissed, using the blade to tilt Castiel's chin up. "Answer my question. What. Are. You?"

Castiel only stared at him.

"Why becalm the ship?" Jo asked from behind him, and though Castiel's eyes briefly flickered towards her he stayed silent.

"Answer her," Dean ordered, applying more force to the blade and seeing a faint stripe of red trickle down Castiel's throat.

"To stop you from interfering." It was clear that Castiel was reluctant to answer - the words left his mouth slowly, as if being dragged out. "We had been chasing the _Witch _for some time, and when we noticed your ship turning to go after them as well we attempted to stop you interfering."

"Stop us - do you know what the _Witch _has done?" Dean's temper had frayed a long time ago, and this Castiel wasn't helping it.

"We are aware of all of the _Witch's _victims, Dean Winchester."

Dean froze when the man called him by name.

"How do you know my name?" He said once he'd recovered his voice. Jo was resting one hand on the sword buckled at her hip, eyes fixed on Castiel.

"We have been tracking the _Witch _for some time," Castiel said slowly, eyes flickering to glance at Jo as if unwilling to explain in her presence. "The attack on your mother alerted us to its presence, and we do keep an eye on any survivors of a strike like that."

"You've been _watching _me?"

Castiel remained silent.

* * *

Dean angrily wiped off his sword as he left the room, Jo assuming her position outside it. The red stained his hands, but he didn't care.

Castiel had refused to say anything else, and Dean had left in a huff. It put him severely off-kilter to learn that not only had Castiel known about what had happened to his mom, but he - and whoever he worked for - had been watching him ever since.

He was going to find the _Witch _once and for all, and if he found the _Shield _along with it, lucky for him. He'd kill all the demon bastards and then ask Castiel's crew what the hell they thought they were doing.

* * *

"Dean, are you sure this is a good idea?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I dunno, because you're betting finding the _Witch _against the hope that this Castiel guy will actually tell you the truth!"

"Like you haven't done crazier!"

"Dean, I'm not saying-" Sam cut himself off impatiently. "What makes you think this Castiel guy will tell you the truth?"

"He will," Dean promised grimly, hand drumming on the hilt of his sword.

"We don't have any guarantee that he was telling the truth before."

"How'd he know my name, then?"

Sam looked exasperated, but also slightly worried. "I'm not saying he doesn't know what he's talking about, but - Dean, we don't know anything about him. You said yourself he was too much like the crew of the _Witch _for comfort. How do we know he's not purposefully leading us off track?"

"I didn't say he was a demon, Sam."

"Well, what if he is?"

Dean gave Sam a flat look. "Sam, what sort of demon crew names their ship _Shield of Heaven?"_

Sam looked taken aback. "That's what it was called?"

"You didn't see the name? I thought I taught you to be more observant than that."

"I might have noticed if we weren't going after the _Witch, _of all ships." Sam huffed. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"Yeah, y'see, I still don't remember asking for your opinion."

* * *

"Why are you doing this?" Jo had remained outside, so only Dean was in the room to hear Castiel's question.

"'Cause I want answers," Dean replied shortly.

"Why are you going after the _Witch?"_

Dean paused, standing slowly and meeting Castiel's curious [and still holding an unnerving amount of blankness] gaze. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I understand that you have feelings of revenge, but you have been informed of my crew's existence now." Castiel's head tilted slightly. "Surely you understand that we will take care of the problem."

"The _problem?" _Dean understood what Castiel meant about as well as Castiel seemed to understand his motives. "Dude, it's not about that."

"My crew has been working to eradicate the demon crew. You know this now. Why interfere when you know they will be dead anyway without your help?"

"You seem pretty sure that your crew's gonna kill them."

"My superiors are determined. Of course we will." And Castiel actually seemed like he believed that, wholeheartedly.

Dean laughed a little bit [but the noise is more derisive than humorous], hand tightening on the hilt of his sword, and for a fraction of a second he saw Castiel's eyes flicker to it. "It ain't about just _killing _them," He said flatly. "One of the guys on that ship killed my mother."

"I know."

"Yeah, so you said." The idea that Castiel knew almost everything that had happened to him was still creepy. "So you know that my dad dedicated his _entire life _to hunting them down - and he taught me everything he knew. It ain't about that bastard being dead. It's about one of _us _doin' the deed."

Castiel was silent, regarding Dean with a still-cocked head and an even blanker expression.

"So, sorry to burst your bubble," Dean said, a smirk curling his lips, "But your crew already being out there ain't gonna do shit to stop me."

* * *

"Ship ahoy! Ship ahoy!"

The frantic call made Dean leap out of his cabin, coat swung on hurriedly over his clothes and naked sword in one hand, long strides taking him up to the deck in seconds and expression making anyone who saw him hurriedly get out of the way.

"What ship?"

"The _Witch! _It's the _Witch_!"

A single moment, in which everything seemed to be frozen.

"Battle stations!"

The deck exploded into chaos, or at least that's how it would look to an outsider. The crew swarmed up from below, some darting down to man the cannons as Jo leaped up into the rigging, Ash [the usual lookout] following her as they pulled at ropes and sent the ship swinging around towards the black dot on the horizon.

Dean sprinted up towards the wheel, since the raised deck was the best lookout spot other than the crow's nest. The ship was heading right towards them, at an unusual speed - the demons wanted a fight as much as he did.

Well, he'd give it to them.

The ships nearly crashed into each other, on raised swells of water and with the threat of a storm in the distance and the demons leaped onto the _Impala _to be met with pirates armed to the teeth with iron and blades with salt worked into them and then the fight was on.

Dean was in the thick of it, black-eyes surrounding him and his crew almost lost in the mess and it was a _thrill, _as the blade danced and demons fell because he was Dean motherfucking Winchester and they knew to be scared of him.

The clash of the blade and the yells and insults tossed back and forth between the fighting pairs were music to his ears. Dean grinned wildly as he parried a stroke from a poisonous-looking black blade and managed to strike the demon's blade aside. He stabbed his own sword forward, spearing it in the heart. The demon gave a choked gurgle, arms falling as it sagged and fell to the deck. Dean moved on, seeking a new enemy.

He found him instantly.

Alistair was in the middle of a crush of people and he flicked Jo and Sam aside like they were nothing. Sam hit the mast and Dean saw _red._

There were no words, just the locking of gazes and Alistair's wild, crazed grin, and their blades met in the middle.

Dean barely registered the fact that the rest of the crew, his and the demon's, were clearing a space around them. All his concentration had to go to Alistair. The demon was a formidable opponent.

"Happy now, Dean?" He sneered as they fought, whirling across the deck. "Now that you've got me here?"

"I ain't gonna be happy 'til you're dead." Dean snarled. He was forced to bring his blade up faster than he thought he was capable of to block a particularly nasty shot. Alistair growled, actually _growled, _and Dean felt himself being thrown backwards.

No one touched him, surging away so that he landed on the hard wood of the deck. Dean got up immediately. Alistair was already surging towards him, and then it was _block, parry, stab, defense, back away, move forward, block _and he had nothing to spare to wonder how the rest of his crew were doing, or why none of the other demons had tried to help their captain and stab him in the back.

"You can try," Alistair practically sang. Damn the bastard, but he was cocky - and good.

"I'll do more than _try-" _Dean lunged forward, Alistair's blade parried and he was moving towards the demon-

In a flash Alistair was behind him, not in front of him. Dean hit the deck and flipped around, bringing his sword up. Alistair's was descending towards him and he wasn't going to be able to get his sword up in time, he'd loose an arm at least, the elbow was going to get severed and he was going to _loose-_

The storm came in a flurry of thunder and a lightning bolt that forked the sky and hit the deck exactly where Alistair was standing.

Dean was forced to cover his eyes, and when he removed his arm, blinking spots out of his vision, there was nothing left of Alistair except a scorch mark.

Castiel was standing near the door that led belowdecks, lowering his arm.

What. _the. **fuck.**_

The demons were whispering among themselves, and if Dean hadn't been struck blind by that lightning then they were moving _away _from Castiel like they were terrified of him. The storm was rolling the boat over a suddenly choppy ocean and Castiel raised his hand again at the same moment that the waves calmed.

"Angel," Hissed a growling voice behind Dean, who froze.

_No._

It made sense, but - _no. _Angels didn't exist.

"What?" Sam asked, staring between the demon who had spoken and the - as always - emotionless Castiel.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded, standing up with his sword still unsheathed.

"Alistair is dead." Castiel's too-blue eyes flickered to the scorch mark, then to the demons behind Dean. "You will be going."

"And why would we..." The demon standing behind Dean trailed off as Castiel's eyes narrowed, his head tilted, and he raised his hand slightly.

The deck was suddenly completely empty of black-eyes, and the _Witch _was drawing away. Dean was too shocked to even threaten Castiel.

"You," He said, "Have a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

Dean knew it was Sam standing behind him, because when he was on the deck like this everyone else knew not to bother him.

"Do you believe him?" His little brother sounded like he knew exactly what Dean was thinking about.

"Do I believe that he's an angel? Hell no." Dean heard Sam sputter.

"But - he called down _lightning. _He showed you his _wings."_

"Angels aren't _real, _Sam. How could they be?" Dean snapped. "Y'think demons would still be around if this guy was seriously an angel? No. He's just...something powerful with a bad sense of humor."

Sam sighed. "So what, you're going to be in denial forever? Nice, Dean. He could help us!"

"How?" Dean snapped. "If angels wanna help so bad, then why didn't they do something about Alistair _before _he started killing people?"

Pause.

"You're mad about mom."

"_No shit!"_

Another long silence.

"Just leave me alone, Sam."

"Dean-"

"_Now!"_

Sam sighed, but his footsteps retreated and Dean was left alone on the deck with his thoughts.

And...some really surreal vision, because he was pretty sure waves didn't look like _that. _

What the hell?

Dean tried to step back, except when he tried to put his foot back down there was no deck underneath it to catch it and he fell, no coat fluttering around his legs because his coat was gone for whatever reason and _what the hell was going on._

* * *

**Okay. Finally finished this. I have no idea what took so long but I blame procrastination, high school, and writer's block. The deadliest combination of all three.**

**But I did finish! And I promise more chapters in the future! Hopefully posted quicker than this one.**

**Read and review, please.**


	4. Magic And Marks - Part 1

**I know it's been a while since the last update, but I do have like four other stories that need updating so cut me some slack. As I speak there's the beginning of the next chapter of the Accidental Vessel sitting around, and about 100 words of ******קו ד ם** that I really should work on more. And yet, here I am, writing more of this ridiculous destiel fluff story.  
**

**I probably should not have done this to myself.**

**Castiel's powers in this storyline are based off a loose mix of Harry Potter, actual Supernatural magic, and some other crap [like Septimus Heap and Howl's Moving Castle] for fun, and because magic is more interesting when you make up your own rules for it.**

**And yes, this is a Soulmate!AU. You're welcome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural**

* * *

Dean woke up with a start.

He'd felt like he was falling and it took hitting the ground hard to realize that he _was _falling - only off his bed, luckily, but there was still a moment of disorientation before his room settled into place around him.

Dean shook his head, putting one hand up against it. His brain felt like it was all out of whack - it must have been his dream, but when Dean groped for the details they were already fading. Something about pirates? He gave it up as a bad job. He never remembered his dreams, anyway.

Dean stood up, intending to get something to eat in the hopes that food would help wake him up, but his hand was still on his forehead and when he opened his eyes he was staring at his wrist.

And there was something there that he was _very _sure wasn't supposed to be on his wrist.

_What the hell?_

There was a _tattoo _there, one he _definitely _didn't remember getting - and Dean was pretty sure he'd remember something like that!

"Dean?" Someone knocked on his door. "Are you sleeping in again? There's breakfast on the table if you want-"

Mary Winchester walked into his room, stopping short when she saw Dean staring at her with one hand clamped around his wrist.

"What's wrong?" She asked, sounding concerned, but Dean didn't answer. Why _was _he so surprised by the sight of his mom? He knew he _had _a mom, but he didn't have an explanation for the feeling that rose up in him that something was completely out of place here.

Other than the mysterious tattoo.

Mary's eyes dropped to his wrist and her eyes widened. "Did you hurt yourself?" Dean didn't do anything to stop her from crossing the room and manhandling his hand open, but dread curled inside him. She was going to freak.

"Oh, my - you got yours!" Um...what?

His mom hugged him with a force Dean hadn't expected. He staggered backwards slightly, too shocked to reciprocate. What the hell was going on?

"I don't believe it!" Mary was still talking. "You are old enough, but I didn't think - oh, I have to tell your dad!" She practically sprinted out of the room, leaving Dean alone.

None of this made any sense.

* * *

Walking into the kitchen was like being a celebrity and walking into some awards ceremony.

Everyone was _grinning _at him - his dad was leaning against the counter, drinking coffee and staring at Dean in a knowing way. Sam stood up almost immediately - there was a book lying open in front of him, big surprise.

"Let me see!" He demanded. "I can't believe you got yours _already - _soulmate tattoos aren't supposed to show up until you're almost eighteen!"

"He is almost eighteen, honey," Mary reminded Sam while Dean's mind whirled. Soulmate tattoos?

"Still," Sam grumped, grabbing Dean's wrist. "It's not supposed to be for months. Hey, this is pretty cool!"

_Soulmate _tattoos.

Dean felt like hitting himself. Information was dredging itself out of his sleepy mind - how could he possible have forgotten about this? It was only what everyone in his grade was talking about, all wondering when they'd get theirs - hell, he'd be one of the first to have his appear. Smug triumph distracted Dean until Sam's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"This bit looks almost like a feather," He said, face about an inch away from Dean's wrist. Dean pulled his hand away.

"How about _I _get a look, since I've had it for about a minute," He said. Sam made a face, but didn't try and grab Dean's wrist back.

The tattoo was fairly small, and drawn almost along the lines of his veins. It _was _a feather, when Dean looked closely, but it was intertwined with the rest of the design and so difficult to see clearly.

"It looks almost Celtic." Mary was peering at it, as well. "Your soulmate must be Irish!"

"Aw, mom." Dean complained. "You don't know that."

"What's wrong with her being Irish?" John laughed.

"You don't know it'll be a girl, John," Mary said gently, moving around the table to smack him lightly on the shoulder. John laughed again, quietly, but he looked vaguely uncomfortable for a moment.

Dean tried to ignore it.

"I wonder if there's a way to analyze soulmarks?" Sam wondered aloud. "I know there are a bunch of people who've written about it - it's supposed to tie into astrology or something, to help narrow down who it is."

"I'm good, Sammy." Dean grinned, taking a seat. "I can find my soulmate on my own time."

* * *

It took almost exactly twenty-four hours for Dean to be ready to eat his words.

His school was just so. Damn. Big. And that wasn't counting the _rest _of the world - there were seven fucking billion people, and any one of them could be his soulmate.

Most of his classmates had freaked when Dean came to school with a soulmate tattoo ["Are you serious, man? I got nothing! Let me see that again-" And so on]. The few that already had theirs would nod at him, like he'd joined some sort of exclusive club, and everyone seemed to know.

Even the teachers were acting differently, although his asshole of a precalc teacher reminded him that Dean still owed her all the homework he'd never turned in.

Was it his fault if he lost stuff? Ms. Morgan sure could use a couple classes in empathy.

That was actually what led Dean to be sitting in a remote, rarely used stairwell during his lunch period, having rushed eating because his mom would be really disappointed if he failed precalculus, which meant he needed to turn in those assignments. No matter how long ago they'd been.

Long story short, Dean needed to give himself a refresher course in whatever the last unit had been.

He was flipping through his book, trying to find the right place, when he heard it.

Dean paused, looking up. A low voice was coming from somewhere above him, but that didn't seem right - the staircase went up that far, sure, but only the janitors went up that far. It led to the roof or something like that, because there weren't any classrooms up that high.

Curious, he climbed up to see where it was coming from.

There was a gate at the top of the stairs to stop students from going any farther, but this close Dean saw that the lock was open and had simply been replaced where it hung before to create the illusion that it was still locked.

Dean walked past the gate.

Probably a bad idea, but whoever said he normally made good ones?

Dean hurried to move around the bend in the staircase, so no one would see him if they happened to walk up that staircase. Whoever was talking was definitely on the next landing, but he still couldn't make out the words.

He walked closer. He could make out the person more as he got closer. They were kneeling with their back to him, working on...

"What the fuck?"

The person wheeled around, eyes wide, and Dean realized he'd said that out loud in the same time it took the boy to shoot to his feet, one hand held out towards Dean.

Dean didn't know why it looked threatening, but it did.

There was stuff scattered all over the floor, and Dean was beginning to understand why he'd gone up here to do whatever he was doing - there was an ancient-looking book open and all sorts of crap scattered everywhere, and a small bag lying discarded by the side of it all.

The boy saw where Dean was looking. "Don't-" He broke off before he got anywhere. "You can't tell anyone!"

"Tell anyone _what?" _Dean demanded. "The hell are you doing?"

The boy opened his mouth, hesitated, and lowered his arm slightly. His eyes were darting everywhere, like he was trying to think of a good excuse. "You can't say anything," He said eventually. "I'll be in so much trouble-"

"Slow down." Dean interrupted, glancing at all the crap on the floor behind the boy. "Okay, look-" The other boy was obviously freaked out. "I promise I won't say anything to - whoever you're scared of finding out - if you tell me what the hell's going on here."

The boy hesitated again, indecisive, an then nodded, letting his arm fall to his side.

"So..." Dean risked walking a little closer. "What _are _you doing?"

"Magic." The boy said it with such a straight face that Dean thought he was serious for a minute.

"Wh - are you kidding me?" Dean gave the boy a skeptical look, but the latter didn't budge. His expression didn't even flicker. "_Magic?"_

"No one's supposed to know," The boy explained, a note of urgency in his voice. "I'm still learning - if anyone finds out that I've been this careless-"

"Lemme guess - something bad'll happen?" Dean snorted. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

The boy tilted his head slightly. "I told you. Magic."

"Magic doesn't exist."

"That's what you're supposed to think."

"Excuse me?" What was up with this kid? "What I'm _supposed _to think?"

"Of course." The boy didn't look at all like he understood how disturbing that sounded. "No one except those who practice it are allowed to know - and those in their immediate family, to avoid awkward situations."

Dean was having a difficult time processing this, but the complete and utter sincerity of the boy in front of him made it difficult _not _to. "What's your name?" He asked, in an effort to steer the conversation back to waters he could manage.

"Castiel." Okay, maybe not.

"_Castiel?" _Dean repeated, not sure if he'd heard wrong.

"It's a very traditional name," Castiel muttered, glancing away from Dean. "My father...thought I should have one, since he didn't."

"What's your dad's name?"

"Chuck."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound traditional." Dean laughed. "So, uh...what were you trying to do?"

"What?" Castiel flushed suddenly. "Oh, it was just - I was trying to make what I was studying easier to remember." He hurriedly closed the book, carefully placing it in the bag and then sweeping the other stuff in as well, bottles placed in special pockets [probably so they didn't break].

"Isn't that cheating?"

"I'm studying, so no." Castiel straightened with a worried expression. "You swear you won't tell?"

"Pinky promise," Dean said with an edge of laughter. "I swear, dude. Your secret's safe with me."

* * *

Castiel sat next to Dean in the cafeteria the next day.

Dean looked over, pausing in the middle of his sandwich. "Hey?"

"Hello, Dean." Castiel hesitated. "I...hope you don't mind."

"Mind what?"

"I don't usually have a regular group of people to associate with during lunch."

Dean took a moment to process the overly-formal words. "You wanna hang out here? Dude, you could have just said so."

"I did." Castiel said.

"You sound like you're from the freakin' eighteenth century, man."

"That would involve a lot more 'thees' and 'thous', I think."

Dean snorted. "Still. Loosen up."

"I'll try to do so."

* * *

"Hey, Cas?"

Castiel looked up from his lunch - Dean couldn't tell what was in it, since they were sitting on opposite sides of the lunch table. "What?"

"How does your...y'know, thing, work?"

Castiel frowned, and then his eyes widened as he realized what Dean meant. He glanced around warily, but the lunchroom was so noisy that it was unlikely anyone would be able to listen in even if they tried. "Maybe we could go elsewhere for this discussion?"

"Like where, Hogwarts?"

Castiel gave him a flat look, but at least he _got _the reference."Outside?"

"It's like thirty degrees out," Dean protested. They'd been having an unusual cold spot for the last few weeks, hence his reason for wearing hoodies all the time.

Castiel shook his head. "Not here, Dean."

"Alright, fine." Dean snorted. "Your call, Cas. I was just curious."

* * *

"Hey, you're not busy Friday, are you?"

Castiel gave Dean a puzzled look. "No...?"

Dean tried not to show how embarrassed he was. "Friday's my mom's dinner thing," he muttered. "It's sorta her rule that we all bring a friend. Happens every time we have a three-day weekend." Technically it was the beginning of winter break and not just a Monday off, but a little thing like that couldn't deter Mary Winchester.

"You want to invite me?" Castiel caught onto Dean's meaning immediately, luckily for Dean.

"If you want," Dean said hurriedly. "You don't have to-"

"Dean, it's fine. I'd like to." Castiel had put down the book he was reading - which meant he was really serious, because the title was in Latin and Dean couldn't tell whether it was a magic book or a textbook.

"Really?"

"Yes. It would be nice to meet your family." Castiel nodded as he spoke.

"They're not that interesting," Dean said dismissively. "Yours sounds a lot cooler."

"Because of..." Castiel made a vague gestured that Dean guessed was referring to his magic. "We're really just as bad as a regular family. Just bigger than most."

"Bigger?"

"I have a lot of siblings." Castiel told him seriously. He did everything seriously, as far as Dean could tell.

Dean scoffed. "You can't have that many."

"I have seven."

"Whoa, okay." Dean whistled. "That's gotta be a pain. Sam alone can be annoying sometimes, I dunno how I'd deal with _seven _of him."

"It's not that bad." Castiel dismissed Dean's sympathetic complaints. "Michael and Sam moved out a while ago, so there's only six of us in the house at most. Not counting my father, of course."

"So on a regular basis, it's you and five other people in one house?" Dean shook his head. "That's gotta be crazy."

"I admit, things can be...chaotic at times." Castiel smiled at Dean. "Hopefully things will be a little calmer at your house."

"Yeah, well, I don't know who my brother's bringing, so no promises."

* * *

"Dean!" Mary hugged him after Dean opened the door, making Dean groan in protest. "Oh, hush. And who's your friend?" She released him to get a good look at Castiel.

"This is Cas," Dean said, gesturing back at Castiel and using the opportunity to drag the dark-haired boy through the door. "Don't just stand out there. You can, uh, hang up your coat if you want." He added under his mother's _be-a-good-host _stare.

The trench coat [Dean had no idea where Castiel had gotten it] found its way onto a hook and the pair found their way into Dean's bedroom, Castiel pausing in the doorway to take it in.

"I take it you're a fan of Led Zeppelin?" There were several rock music posters plastered to the wall in what seemed to be a deliberately crooked style. Dean grinned.

"Yeah, man, he's the best. Dad even still has a few of his old records." Dean sat with a bump on his bed, leaving Castiel to take the desk chair. The desk itself was cluttered with various objects and papers and probably never used for actual homework.

"None of my family has ever been particularly interested in music," Castiel admitted. "My father's interests are oriented more towards literature."

"He likes books, you mean?" Dean glanced towards the open door. "What does your dad do?"

Castiel caught the glance, and looked at the door as well. Raising one hand slightly, he gestured forward.

The door closed with a click. Dean stared.

"_Dude."_

"It's not that difficult," Castiel muttered. "I learned that one quickly. My brother Gabriel can be...rather invasive."

"How does it work, though?" Dean had leaned forward in interest.

"I have to learn the charm, first," Castiel explained. "Once I get good enough at it I don't need the physical **Charm **to do the spell, and once I get good enough at doing it **Charm-**less it's easy to do it nonverbally."

"What's a charm?"

"It's a small object with the spell on it. Say I wanted a spell for everlasting ink-" Castiel picked up a stray pen from the desk. "The words of the spell might be written on the casing of the pen, and I'd have to be touching the pen to use it as a **Charm.**"

"You don't have any charms on you, do you?"

Castiel patted his pockets, then shook his head. "Generally I don't take them outside the house unless they're absolutely necessary."

"You had all that stuff with you at school."

"I forgot to study. It was necessary."

Dean stifled a laugh, but he could feel his grin stretching his mouth. "_You _forgot to study?"

"I was occupied with other things." Castiel was grinning back, if in a more sedate manner. "It does happen."

There was a knock at the door, interrupting their conversation, and both boys looked up as Mary poked her head in. "Dinner," She announced. "Sam's home as well."

"We'll be down in a sec," Dean promised, getting up. "C'mon, Cas. She made pie for dessert and that ain't something to miss."

* * *

Sam had brought another kid from his school named Ash who was weirdly good with computers, from what Dean could decipher from their technical talk.

"What's Cas short for?" Was the first thing Ash wanted when Dean introduced Castiel.

Castiel told them.

"That's an unusual name," Mary commented, passing around a bowl. "Dean, give this to your brother. Casti_el..._isn't that an angelic name?"

Dean could see Castiel's hesitation. "It may be," he said. "I'm not sure of the etymology of it, since I've never researched it."

"So what does your dad do?" John wanted to know.

"He's a writer," Castiel said. "Nothing you'd know, I don't think."

"Well, what's he written?" Mary asked. "I may have heard of it."

"A book series called 'Supernatural'. It's not very popular, but the fans are quite devoted from what he says."

Dean frowned. Supernatural. For some reason, the name struck a chord with him. It sounded familiar. "What's it about?"

"It's a horror series, really, monsters and demons." Castiel admitted. "Sort of occult. Not that _he _is, it's just the premise of the series," he hastily added.

Still familiar, even though Dean was sure he'd never read anything like that.

"Dean, you alright?" He looked up at his mom's question.

"Yeah, sorry, just zoned out for a minute."

* * *

Dean was invited to Castiel's house a few weeks later.

"You want me to come over to your house?" Dean asked, just to make sure he'd heard right. Castiel looked so shifty he would have thought it would be something bigger.

"It's, uh..." Castiel rubbed the back of his neck. "I may have let slip that you had found out about my, ah-"

"_Oh." _Suddenly Dean understood Castiel's attitude all too well. "Uh...what's this gonna entail?"

"Nothing too bad." Castiel assured him. "My father just wants to make sure you can be, well, trusted."

"What happens if he thinks I can't be?"

Castiel looked awkward. "I'll vouch for you, Dean-"

"Dude, what happens?"

Castiel fidgeted, avoiding meeting Dean's eyes. "Well, if someone unsavory finds out about it, generally we'd just..." he mumbled the last part so Dean could barely make it out.

"Did you just say _wipe my mem-"_

"Sssssh!" Castiel covered Dean's mouth - he had said it very loudly, and several people at nearby tables had glanced over at them.

"Are you serious, Cas?" Dean demanded in a stage whisper.

"It's standard procedure," Castiel hissed back. "Normally we don't have to make anyone forget more than a few minutes. A half hour, in an extreme case. Any more and they'll notice something's missing."

"So what happens if they try to wipe mine? I forget you completely? _That's way more than half an hour, Cas!"_

"Ssshhh! I know." Castiel scooted towards Dean on the bench, glancing around them furtively. "I know, Dean, that's why it's incredibly unlikely that my father will try something like that. Michael won't be happy about it, but he'll listen to him."

"Who's Michael?"

"My oldest brother. He generally takes care of this sort of thing, but if my father intervenes he steps aside. He's only in town for a day or two, since he meant to come in to manage this."

"I don't want to be _managed."_

"Dean, I don't _have_ an alternative. Just be yourself. I know I can trust you, you just have to show them that."

Dean huffed, meeting Castiel's serious gaze. "Alright, fine. But if it goes south I'm getting the hell out of Dodge."

* * *

Castiel's house was big and old and it looked like it hadn't been refinished in years. The door squeaked when Castiel opened it, and the pair were immediately greeted by the sound of someone playing television loudly. Explosions featured prominently in the soundtrack.

"Aw, c'mon!"

"Suck it!"

"I'm gonna beat your ass, Anna, you just wait."

"You fall off like, four times every lap. As if." Dean walked in on what appeared to be a furious Mario Kart battle. Castiel didn't seem bothered by the plethora of people in the room. A boy with long hair looked like he was about to fall off the sofa because of how far forward he was leaning, face scrunched in concentration.

One of the cars on-screen - they were playing Rainbow Road? Dean wondered who had picked that - fell off the road and the screen blacked out. "Damnit!" The same boy cursed, and a redheaded girl grinned widely.

"I _told _you, Gabriel." She had to have been the one he'd heard before - Anna? She looked away from the screen and noticed Castiel and Dean in the doorway. "Oh. You brought him."

The other four people turned around, all of them focusing their attention on Dean. Someone hit the pause button on the game. Gabriel raised one eyebrow.

"This kid? That's who you told?"

"It was an accident," Castiel muttered.

"Doesn't sound good for your case," Another girl said, with hair much blonder than her sister's. "I told you taking all that to school was a bad idea, Castiel."

"It was sorta my fault," Dean said quickly. "I wouldn't have been up that way at all if I didn't have to study."

"It's not us you have to convince," The blonde girl said.

"Relax," the dark-haired one next to Gabriel said with a smile. "It isn't that bad. Castiel just exaggerates. _I _was fine."

"You're not-" Dean gestured at the rest of them and then realized, with a start, that the girl was blind. Who else would wear sunglasses indoors?

"One of their siblings? Thank God, no." The girl snorted. Gabriel poked her with his controller.

"Shut up, Pamela, you know you love me."

"He's in the kitchen, if you wanted," Anna offered.

Castiel fidgeted. "...Maybe not right away."

"Yeah, like that's gonna help," Gabriel snorted, turning back to the screen. "Someone unpause it. I'm gonna win this thing."

"You've said that the last three games and you still haven't."

"I'm bluffing. I'm gonna dazzle you with my skill in this last lap."

* * *

"Castiel?" The door to Castiel's room creaked open and Castiel stiffened, making Dean look at the door warily.

The man poking his head in was much older than Castiel, making Dean realize that he must have been Castiel's father.

The one who would decide whether Dean got his memory erased or not.

"I thought I'd find you up here," Castiel's dad - Chuck - said. "I'd like to talk to your friend, if you don't mind?"

Dean's gaze moved to Castiel, who looked frozen in his seat. He nodded, and Dean slowly got up.

"My study is just down the hall." Chuck held the door open, and Dean slid past him into the hallway, wondering what would happen if he just took off now. Probably he wouldn't get past the living room. "I call it a study, but it's really just where I write. Ah, this way."

The study was crowded with bookshelves and old volumes that Sam would probably lose his mind over, and the desk was lost under piles of paper and a computer that looked like it was from 2001. Dean warily took the chair that he was offered.

"You don't have to look so nervous," Chuck said, taking the seat at the desk and nearly forgetting to move the stack of loose paper that was on it before he did so. "I doubt I'll end up needing to...well, you know. I'm sure Castiel's told you. Besides, removing that many memories can be tricky."

"That's what Cas said," Dean told him, mind on autopilot.

"Cas, huh?" Chuck was smiling. "You must be pretty close friends."

"Uh - yeah, I guess."

"He said you, ah, stumbled across him on accident." Chuck was leaning against the desk, one hand propping his head up. "Do you mind giving me another side of the story?"

Dean told him. He wasn't sure why he'd included some things, like how he'd needed to study, but context was important, right? And something about Chuck just made it impossible for Dean to purposefully leave everything out.

Maybe he was using magic.

Dean, strangely enough, didn't feel bothered by it.

Chuck nodded as Dean finished explaining. "You're not bothered by the idea of magic?" He looked almost surprised.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "It was a little weird when he told me about it, but, I mean, it's not like you're killing anyone with it. Not that I thought you would. I mean." He scrambled for the right words. "It - you're just doing what you do."

"That's...one way to put it." To his relief, Chuck didn't look upset.

"So, uh..." Dean shifted in his seat. "What happens now?"

"Well, preferably, you promise not to tell anyone else and I don't have to make you forget," Chuck replied.

"I can do that," Dean said.

"You've got to say the words."

Dean took a moment to understand what Chuck meant. "Oh! I, uh, promise not to tell anyone that you've got magic."

There was a sharp tingling feeling, like static and goosebumps mixed together, that raced over Dean almost too fast for him to process, making him jump. He rubbed at his arms, where the feeling was strongest, pushing his sleeves up in the process.

He didn't realize he'd uncovered his mark until Chuck's eyes fixated on it.

Hurriedly, Dean shoved his sleeves back down. "It's just my mark," he muttered. It seemed like an oddly intimate thing to let someone see, now.

"Already?" Chuck's eyes lingered on Dean's arm. He looked lost in thought, and then startled back to the present. "Well, then." Chuck clapped his hands together, standing up. "It's kinda late. You might as well stay for dinner."

* * *

Dinner was a haphazard and _crowded _affair, first and foremost.

Eight Novaks at the table plus Dean meant a crowded dining room, and the man sitting on Dean's other side [whose name he hadn't been given] kept giving him dirty looks every time Dean accidentally elbowed him or something along those lines

Dean couldn't help it if he was used to a table with far less people.

He was also used to a dinner table with a lot less _magic._

The man on his other side had popped into the room without so much as a warning, making Dean jump in surprise and Gabriel laugh at the startled reaction. Gabriel himself seemed to have a never-ending stash of candy on his person, from what Dean could tell by the lollipop that only left his mouth when Chuck asked and the wrappers that he seemed to trail around everywhere. Dean couldn't tell where he kept everything.

Another red-headed girl - well, a woman, really - with a tight bun seemed the most sedate out of all of them save Chuck, but Dean saw her levitate some of the heavier dishes, and the majority of the table did the same, either not caring or forgetting that Dean was there.

One of the windows which should have looked out onto the backyard showed a sunset vista over a lake that reset itself every ten minutes or so, but when Dean asked about it Anna just laughed and said she'd tried to make it so the window actually _led _to the lake, but she hadn't been nearly as advanced then and they'd been stuck with the sunset.

"I liked it," was Chuck's only comment.

Castiel leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear. "She succeeded the second time she tried. Her closet goes straight to her friend's house in Minneapolis."

Dean didn't have time to ask how that even _worked _as the conversation at the table changed topics yet again and Castiel was drawn into some debate over some complicated method of doing a spell or something along those lines that made zero sense to Dean.

There were a million and one signs and tiny marks of magic that Dean hadn't noticed walking into the house or upstairs. It was like they'd all been hidden until he'd been 'approved'.

And speaking of approval, Michael most certainly didn't agree with his father's decision.

He looked similar to Castiel, dark had and blue eyes, and didn't give Dean more than a cool glance the entire time. He spent most of the meal talking in a low voice to Chuck, who somehow managed to keep that going and devote attention to everyone else at the table as well.

Dean got the weird feeling that Chuck kept looking at him, but the Novak patriarch never was when he looked back.

That didn't mean the feeling went away.

Dean tried to ignore it.

* * *

The second time Dean visited the Novaks, the magic had [if it was even possible] gotten even more in-your-face.

He didn't know _what _Gabriel was planning with the elaborate circle [complete with candles set up at strategic points] and, from the look on the older Novak's face, didn't _want _to know. Castiel just kept walking like he dealt with it every day - and, well, he probably did.

"Whoa, you didn't show me this stuff last time." Castiel's bedroom had produced several shelves that, when closed, folded invisibly into the wall. Dean could see why they'd been closed before - they were full of herb jars, what looked like potions in carefully labeled bottles, and all other sorts of miscellany.

Castiel carefully retrieved a small box with a latched lid, setting it on the bed and opening it. "I thought you might want to see this."

Dean kneeled on the floor, leaning closer over the bed. Castiel was sitting on top of one of his pillows, rifling through the box. "What is it?"

"**Charms.**" Castiel picked one out, handing it to Dean. "Here, this one's invisibility."

Dean squinted at the sliver of what looked like obsidian. There were gold scratches on it, but they were impossible to read."This is stupidly small."

Castiel passed him a large, handle-less magnifying glass. "Try this."

The words leaped out at him as Dean passed the glass over the tiny **Charm**, reading the first line out loud. "Let me fade into the air...invisibility, huh? I could have guessed that." He glanced up at Castiel. "Do you think this would work on me?"

"It's doubtful. It's a personal **Charm**," Castiel elaborated, "So you'd have to cast the spell, but most magic is a mix of innate talent and genetics. My family has both, luckily, which means I'm capable of the more advanced stuff."

"So no magic unless you hit the genetic jackpot?" Dean joked.

"I wouldn't say that," Castiel replied. "There are some rituals that don't require any magic at all, just the right ingredients. Of course, generally one needs magical connections to _get _those ingredients, and we can be a very insular community."

"I've noticed. With the mind-wiping and stuff." Dean gestured to his head. "So if I had magic, I'd just hold this and say it?"

"In the most basic possible steps, yes." Castiel said, taking the **Charm **back. Him leaning forward to take it had the effect of pressing his knee into the mattress, making the box full of **Charms **tip over and spill across the bed. "Oh-"

"Here, I'll help." Dean meant to, except he saw a feather among the mess and froze, because he'd seen that feather before.

On his tattoo.

"You didn't touch the **Freeze Charm, **did you?" Castiel leaned forward, carefully picking one out of the pile with seemingly no effort and startling Dean back into reality. "It can be a bit tempermental." He dropped it in the box, scooping the rest of them towards him.

"No, I'm good," Dean managed. "Uh...what's that feather one?"

"This?" Castiel rummaged for a moment and came up with the feather, slightly rumpled but still managing to look exactly like the one on Dean's arm. "It's a **Flyte Charm.**"

"Flight? You can _fly?" _

Castiel laughed at Dean's incredulous response. "No. This charm's too old - the secrets of Flyte were lost ages ago. No one can anymore, not with magic at least. It was a gift from a relative of mine."

"Who?"

"My uncle. He died quite a while ago, but he left something to each of us in his will." Castiel held up the feather, examining it as if he were just remembering the story. "This was my gift. It was the last one he left, actually, which is suitable since I'm the youngest."

"I thought Muriel was?" Dean had been introduced to most of the family by now, and Castiel had muttered the name of the blond-haired girl as they'd passed her hurriedly extinguishing something by pouring water out a window. Dean hadn't asked what she was doing.

"No, she's second youngest." Castiel raised one eyebrow at Dean. "She doesn't look _that _young."

Dean shrugged. "Sue me. I'm not good at telling how old people are. So what's the feather do?"

"Nothing. It's so old the spell's mostly worn off." Castiel placed it back in the box gingerly. He wasn't looking at Dean, and so didn't see how the boy's eyes followed it until Castiel closed the lid.

* * *

**Okay I ended up dividing this chapter into two parts, simply because this ended up being so long. Be content with part one for now! I promise the next one will be uploaded quickly.  
**

**Review, please!**


	5. Magic and Marks - Part 2

**Glad you liked the last chapter! I was kinda disappointed I had to split it up but shorter and sooner is better than a giant chunk of storyline three months after the last chapter, right?**

**Anyway I really like Anna, so there'll be a lot of her in this chapter. I _really _wish they hadn't killed her off, but this is Supernatural and a female character we're talking about. Her chances weren't that great.**

**I was writing the last bit of this chapter and the Space Jam theme came on in my shuffle...I had to take a break because I couldn't write that scene with that music but I couldn't skip it. It's _Space Jam._**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural**

* * *

The third time Dean went over, it wasn't to hang out with Castiel.

Well, not _just _to do that.

"Hey, Anna?"

The woman in question lowered the book she was reading, eyebrows raised. "Dean? Aren't you looking for Castiel?"

"Uh, he's sorta busy with your dad." Dean could have sworn that Chuck had winked as he pulled Castiel away for an 'important talk', as he claimed, but that didn't make any sense to him so Dean didn't tell Anna that. "I was wondering if I could ask you something. About magic."

He could sense that he'd piqued Anna's interest. She put the book down all the way, leaving it propped open by dint of leaving both covers faceup. "About what kind of magic?"

"Restoring old stuff." Dean shifted under her curious gaze. She could get pretty intense. He could tell that she was Castiel's sister.

"Why can't you ask Castiel?"

"I was sort of intending to do something as a surprise for him?" It came out as a question. Anna's eyes flashed.

"There's not much you can do with non-magic rituals," She said, as if thinking aloud. "Technically all rituals are magic, but there's a certain amount of power involved. You've got to really know what you're getting into before you try it. And, of course, if it goes wrong you'll be the first target of the backlash. But generally that's much less likely with restorative spells. It does depend on what you're trying to restore, though."

"Um-" Dean hesitated. "Well. It was that old Charm he showed me. The feather one."

"_That?" _Anna looked startled, then her face creased into a thoughtful frown. "Hm. Difficult. I've never tried using a spell _on _a **Charm **before."

"So it's not a good idea?"

"Well, that depends." Anna seemed to have half-forgotten Dean was even there, lost in a cloud of thought and the new puzzle laid out before her. "I'll contact you when I've got an idea. I'll try and get the feather from Castiel, too, if he'll let me." She grinned at Dean. He hesitantly grinned back.

If he'd asked Castiel, he would have been told that he'd just unleashed an unstoppable force - if anyone could solve the problem, it would be Anna, simply because she wouldn't stop until she did so.

* * *

Dean woke up in the middle of the night to his phone ringing. He fumbled for it blindly, kicking his way out from under a mess of blankets and getting goosebumps at the cold air in his room. "What?"

"_I have an idea."_

"I - _Anna_? How did you get my number?"

"_I got it off Castiel's phone. Listen, about your **Charm **thing-"_

"It's three in the morning!"

"_I know. Look, I've got an idea about-"_

"Can it wait for a reasonable time?"

_"If I wait I'm going to forget it. All the best ideas work like that. I managed to scribble it down but it's three in the morning and I'm not going to understand it later." _Dean heard Anna yawn over the line.

"Alright," he said grudgingly. "What is it?"

"_It would be impossible to use anything with actual magic in it to restore the **Charm. **The latent magic wouldn't react well and there's no saying whether it would even work, and if there was a relapse then the resulting field would have a huge span, not to mention what might happen to whatever's in the immediate vicinity. _And _ignoring what might happen to whoever was casting the spell-"_

"Okay, can't use magic, I don't have any so I wasn't planning on it." Dean cut her off. "What else is there?"

"_Nothing, off the top of my head. I very rarely use those rituals. None of us do. It's sort of taboo, in a way, using stuff that doesn't require magic-"_

"You can explain your social cues to me later. What can we do to fix it?"

Anna blew out a heavy breath, making the line crackle. _"I don't know. As far as I know, if a **Charm **wears out it's not useable anymore. You have to trash it and make a new one. Thing is, a **Charm** like that-"_

"You can't just make a new one," Dean finished, remembering what Castiel had told him. "Look, Cas said you were good at magic. I get the feeling he was understating it." _Especially _if she'd managed to create some sort of portal to her friend's house three states away. "You're telling me you've got nothing?"

_"Of course not." _Anna sounded almost insulted. "_There are one or two non-magic rituals that might work, but they're not in the house and I won't be able to get my hands on them without people asking a lot of awkward questions."_

"So?"

_"So, getting them is now _your _job."_

"You can't be serious!" Dean protested. "I can't be doing magic in the house."

"_Oh, hush. I'll find the instructions one way or another, I just need _you _to do the dirty work to find it and get the ingredients together._"

"That's not dangerous, is it?"

"_Not unless whoever has them is very, very secretive about their spells. With something like this, they wouldn't be._"

"Great." Dean didn't feel reassured in the least. He had a feeling he'd gotten in over his head. "Uh, what was your idea?" She'd said she had an idea, hadn't she?"

"_Hm?" _There was a shuffling noise on the other end of the conversation. "_Oh, right. It was about what ritual to use."  
_

"And?"

_"Well, the Tesla energy circle would work best, but it has a lot of possible side effects that might be countered if we used something like a Rosenberg or a-"_

"I have no idea what you're saying."

Anna huffed. "_I'll send you the details once I figure out the best method for sure, then.__ Bye._"

"Bye-" Anna hung up before Dean even began to speak.

Yeah, she was definitely Castiel's sister.

* * *

Dean, for some reason, kept getting invited over to the Novak's.

Either Castiel really liked having someone other than his siblings to hang out with at home, or something else was up.

"It's because it's MidWinter," Castiel explained as they walked up the sidewalk towards his dilapidated house. "It's a traditional celebration. Of course, my ancestors celebrated it because it meant the winter was halfway over and they were that much closer to the weather being bearable again."

"Winter sucks, I'll agree with them on that." Dean stamped snow off his boots once they got onto the porch, waiting for Castiel to dig his key out of his bag and let them in. "How come you always have to unlock the door?"

"Michael's paranoia, mostly."

"I thought he didn't live here?"

"Yes, but he's the one who enchanted the door." Castiel turned the key, and the door opened with a gust of warm air and a shout of "Be quick! I don't want all the hot air getting out!"

They both darted inside gladly, and Naomi - the other redhead, the severe one from before - closed it with a flick of her wrist. Her eyes lingered disapprovingly on Dean for a moment before her attention shifted to Castiel. "You're late."

"Apologies. I lost track of time." Castiel said. "I'll try to remember next time."

Naomi only sniffed, turning and leaving the front hallway.

"Late for what?" Dean dropped his coat on one of the hangers, glancing at Castiel quizzically.

"I was supposed to help prepare for tonight," Castiel explained. "To help set up for MidWinter. I suppose Naomi will find something else for me to do."

"This seems like a pretty elaborate setup." Dean commented, letting himself be led into the living room, which was surprisingly empty. Normally it was full of some arrangement of Castiel's siblings and possibly Pamela, but it was deserted now. "Where's everyone else?"

"Getting ready, most likely." Anna said as she walked in, hands full of papers. "Where have you been? I had to do your bits!"

"Sorry." Castiel did look apologetic as Anna stuffed some of the papers into his arms. "This is-"

"Now your problem," Anna said with an intensely satisfied air. She bumped into Dean as she turned around to leave. "Whoops, sorry."

"It's fine." Dean eyed the stack of what looked like parchment that Castiel was now holding. "What _is _that?"

"I'll figure it out." Castiel looked morose. "I might have to ask Anna for help. She usually does the harder bits. Wait here - it's probably not a good idea for you to get caught up in the preparation."

"Then why-" Castiel left before Dean could finish his question, leaving the teenager staring after him in frustration. "Why did you invite me over in the first place?" He finished to no one in particular. "And what the _hell _is with everyone in this family always needing to have the last word?"

* * *

Dean was eventually pulled out to the backyard, despite the freezing weather, to find that it had been turned into a miniature forest.

"_Whoa._" Dean stared at the trees that _definitely _hadn't been in the backyard before. "How-"

"It's just an illusion." Castiel's sandy-haired older brother tugged Dean back. "So don't try and touch them or anything. You'll need to stay out of the way, too. It's not really for non-magic people."

"Don't be rude, Balthazar," Castiel said.

"I'm fine with sitting back," Dean said. "I don't want to mess anything up. I dunno what this whole MidWinter thing is gonna do, anyway."

"It's a renewal of power." Naomi walked crisply down the back stairs and into the snow, unbothered despite the fact that Dean _knew _she was wearing heels. He couldn't help but be a little impressed. And maybe intimidated, because Naomi seemed to have that effect on everybody. "And I would appreciate it if you'd stay by the door."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Castiel laid a hand on his shoulder. "She's right," he said. "This kind of magic might not be pleasant for you. It's a very ancient thing. The forest is to try and ground ourselves in how it was originally done so it won't be as bad." He looked sympathetic, as if he could tell what Dean was thinking.

"Fine," Dean grumbled, glad at least that there wasn't any snow on the stairs to the back door. At least his pants would stay dry.

* * *

If you asked Dean later, he remembered only fragments of what had been done on MidWinter. There was something about it, the magic that had been there, that made it seem like he'd missed everything big even if he swore that he'd been watching the whole time.

That didn't mean he didn't find the envelope in his jacket pocket later.

Dean stared at it for a moment before it clicked. Anna had bumped into him. She must have slipped it into his pocket then - which meant it had something to do with Castiel's surprise.

He opened it hurriedly, finding inside it paper thick and heavier than paper normally was. Drawn on it was a large circle, notes marked in neat cursive around it at various points. They were hints and instructions - don't do this, watch out for this possible backlash, etc.

Dean realized it was the circle Anna had been talking about before, on the phone, and his excitement mounted.

There were two pieces of paper, he finally realized, and the second one was a brief note written to him.

_Dean-_

_Here's the circle. It's a bit experimental, since I really combined two circles based on which aspects of each we'd really need. I had to add in a few details to counterbalance any possible side effects, so you have to make sure you've got_ _everything_ _right when you draw it out. I've included a list of ingredients and instructions to finish it - as for the **Charm **itself, be careful with it. It's still very old.  
_

_-Anna_

The ingredients _alone _took up half the page, and the instructions continued onto the back in such tiny print that Dean thought he might need Castiel's ultra-magnifying glass to read it. Dean's excitement faded slightly. He knew basically nothing about what he was about to do - would he really be able to manage it?

He thought of the feather, of the tattoo on his wrist, and his resolve hardened.

Rereading the letter (in case he had missed anything the first time) Dean noticed the bit about the **Charm **fully. Anna couldn't mean...

Carefully, Dean stuck his fingers into the envelope and drew out the fragile blue feather.

* * *

"Anna, what is it with you calling me at ass o'clock in the morning?" Dean grumbled into the phone, glancing out the window at the pitch-dark sky. "I _got _your letter. I read the instructions. I don't know how I'm gonna get half of it, but I got a handle on this."

_"I call in the morning because none of us have cell phones and this way no one else will interrupt on my end." _Anna sounded amused. "_And it's only the second time."_

"It's still too damn early," Dean complained. "What?"

_"Well, I _was _calling to make sure you'd gotten everything, but I see you have that under control._ _You could just go to those herbal remedy shops downtown, you know._"

"I knew that," Dean said halfheartedly.

"_Sure, Dean._" Anna paused. "_In other news, Castiel apparently thinks we're dating._"

"_What_?" If Dean had been drinking anything, it wouldn't have been in his mouth for long. "Where'd he get _that _idea?"

"_I don't know, maybe the way I've been sneakily calling you and giving you secret messages? If anyone else had been in the room I don't doubt they would have noticed too."_

"Oh my God." Dean sighed. "What did you tell him?"

_"I told him to stop being an idiot because you were the last person I'd date._"

Dean paused, feeling like he should be offended by that, but mostly embarrassed. "Well, I'd hope I'm not _that _unattractive," he said in an attempt to salvage the situation.

"_You're not my type." _Anna replied. "_I thought I'd warn you about it, though, in case Castiel asked you about it."_

"What'd you say it was about?"

"_I told him it was none of his business, but I can get away with being rude. I'm his sister. But I'm sure you can think of something if he asks you._"

Predictably, Anna hung up before he could say anything else.

* * *

"_Dean, uh, we've got a problem._"

"What?" At least, Dean reflected, it wasn't the middle of the night.

"_Castiel found out that **Charm** was missing."_

"Oh, shit."

* * *

The scene Dean burst in on was nothing short of chaotic.

Castiel's room was a mess. Things were uncharacteristically scattered over the floor. The box of **Charms **lay open on his bed, its contents strewn over the blanket. Castiel had whirled around when Dean entered, the door banging open. Anna looked relieved to see him.

Judging by the amount of noise that had been coming from the room, Dean didn't blame her.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Castiel still looked angry, eyes blazing.

"Anna asked me to come over-"

"You're involving _Dean_ in this?" Castiel demanded, turning back on his sister.

"Castiel, it's not like that-"

"Then what is it like?" Castiel shouted. "I find out you went into my room and _took _one of my **Charms, **what am I supposed to think? Were you even telling the truth about you and Dean?"

"I'm not dating Anna!" Dean objected.

"Why are you even here?" Castiel faced Dean again, brows drawn down in fury. "You don't have anything to do with this! Why else would you want to help-"

Dean thrust out his hand, showing Castiel what he held. Castiel faltered, staring in shock.

It was the feather **Charm. **A little ruffled from Dean clenching it. Bright blue and shining in the light, the way it was on Dean's tattoo, gold lettering standing out easily in tiny dyed sections.

Dean couldn't read it. Castiel probably could.

"_You _took it?" Castiel sounded confused now. "I - what did you - you _stole _it."

In retrospect, it hadn't been the greatest idea. Castiel probably hated him now. Dean swallowed back his fear. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"So you got Anna to _sneak into my room and take it_?" Castiel snatched the feather out of Dean's hand.

"I didn't mean-"

"What _did_ you mean?" Castiel demanded.

The words stuck in Dean's throat. What could he say? That the feather was on his soulmate tattoo? That he thought that it meant Castiel might be _his _soulmate? That he'd thought if he fixed it...

Dean didn't _know _what he'd thought would happen, but this situation hadn't been part of it.

"Get out," Castiel said.

"What?"

"I said get out! Go _away_!" He flung his hand out, making Dean stumble backwards. The door slammed in his face.

Dean stared at it for several moments.

He'd just wanted to do something _nice _for Castiel. He hadn't expected it to blow up in his face like this.

But he'd gone behind Castiel's back. He _had _stolen the feather. Guilt creeped in and curled heavily in Dean's stomach.

He was never going to be able to make it up to Castiel. He'd never even know if he'd really managed to fix the **Charm. **Every bad scenario manifested itself in Dean's mind - he'd never see Castiel again most likely-

And then it was like he caught the faintest whisper of a voice. _Hm. Good. That's a good place to stop. Keep him from trying anything stupid with Cas._

And then something plucked him away from the hallway.

* * *

**Dunno if the ending was super clear, but oh my god this took _way _too long to finish. Apologies, guys. Please leave a review!**


	6. Reverse Verse

**Oh my God I'm so sorry it's taken this long to update I got really invested in the last few chapters of the Accidental Vessel.**

**As usual I only have the vaguest of ideas about what this chapter will entail, so this might go...wherever. It's going to be a little weirder than the last few have been, but I'm trying to build up to the end a little. I did that a little bit last chapter as well.  
**

**I think it's easy to grasp what I'm going for here, but if you can't guess it then I might have to re-update and make it a little clearer.**

**Anyway. New chapter, feat. Gabriel being a little shit. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.**

* * *

Dean woke up with a start.

The face leaning over him with a worried expression took a moment to place. _Castiel. _The name sent a jolt through Dean, and he felt oddly panicked. _Why_?

Castiel had been shaking him. That explained why he'd woken up like that. "Are you alright?" Castiel asked. "Were you dreaming?"

Dean hesitated. "I...think so." That would explained why he couldn't remember where the shaky, horrible feeling in his limbs came from.

"I figured." Castiel stepped away. Dean sat up, realizing he was in the bunker. "You want something to eat?"

_I don't need anything _was the first response that came to Dean's mind, but he didn't say it. Things had changed.

...He just needed to try and remember why.

"No thanks," he settled on. It was the safest answer for now.

Castiel lingered in the doorway for a moment, as if reluctant to leave. He regarded Dean solemnly, eyes bright even in the darkness of the room.

"If you change your mind," he said, "I'll be in the kitchen."

He left before Dean could reply, leaving Dean staring awkwardly at the empty doorway.

He tried to remember how he'd gotten back to the bunker. He must have been here all night; the soreness in his body told him that he must have been doing _something _before coming back. It felt strange and uncomfortable, and he tried to stretch to get rid of the cramps and aches.

No such luck.

* * *

The kitchen was occupied by more than just Castiel when Dean got there.

Sam was leaning against one of the counters, looking exhausted but making a face every time he took a sip of the coffee in his mug. He looked up sharply when Dean entered.

Dean scanned him habitually, looking for injuries.

"I'm all right," Sam said. "I should be worried about you."

"I'm fine."

Sam snorted. Even Castiel looked over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"I don't believe that," Sam said. "Plus, I can still see that bandage on your shoulder."

Dean glanced down. The edge of a bandage was peeking out from under his shoulder, a faint brownish splotch discoloring some of it.

At least that explained why his shoulder hurt like hell. "It's not that bad." Dean tried to cover the fact that his mind was still so fuzzy that he didn't even remember how he'd gotten hurt.

"Dean, Metatron did the same thing to you that he did to me-"

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about that right now," Castiel said hurriedly. "Gabriel's out - we should at least wait until he comes back."

Dean scowled. Even the mention of Gabriel was enough to put him in a bad mood. Castiel noticed.

"Look-" He sounded exasperated. "I _know _you don't like Gabriel and he hardly makes it easy, but he _did _help us find you."

Find him...

Things were trickling into Dean's mind, but he still couldn't make sense of any of it. He turned away slightly, meaning to go back to his room.

"Dean?" He heard a _clunk _that was probably Sam putting his coffee cup down.

"I'm fine, I just..." Dean hesitated. "I'm going to go...lie down or something," he muttered, already out of the room before he finished the sentence.

He didn't make it down the hallway before memories started piling themselves on, his mind clearing and forcing him to _remember-_

What Metatron had done, how long he'd spent stuck there-

Watching them _fall _and not being able to _do _anything-

And before that...

"Hey." Castiel's quiet voice and a hand on his shoulder jerked Dean out of his thoughts. Castiel was looking at him sympathetically. "We'll get your Grace back. Yours _and _Sam's. You know we will."

"Yeah." Dean sounded insincere even to himself. "I just..."

"Got overwhelmed?" Castiel suggested. "I get it. Really."

"Do you?" Dean snapped, and immediately regretted it. Castiel's face fell - barely, but enough to show. He stepped away, taking his hand off Dean's shoulder.

"Cas-"

"You're overwhelmed," Castiel said quietly. "I'll just...leave you alone for a little."

That wasn't what Dean wanted, but he had no idea how to tell Castiel what he _did _want, and could only watch helplessly as Castiel walked back into the kitchen.

* * *

Sam tracked him down a little later.

"Dean?" There was a hesitant knock at his door. The bedroom was mostly empty, but it was his - at least temporarily - and Dean had retreated there and tried to figure things out.

"What?"

Sam took that as an invitation, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "I can tell you're not doing well."

"I'm doing fine."

"I know you're lying, too." Sam sat on the edge of the bed. Dean didn't turn to face him, just shifted away to give Sam more room. "You're human. It's a lot more complicated than it sounds. _I'm _still figuring it out."

Dean made a face even though he knew Sam couldn't see it. "It's not that."

"Then what?"

Dean hesitated to answer, one hand curling instinctively around his abdomen. It wasn't injured, but there was still a lingering ache.

Sam caught the movement, and Dean heard him make an aborted noise. "Oh," his brother said eventually.

Dean didn't look at him.

Sam sighed, and scooted over so that he was next to Dean. "I forgot," he said. "For you, the whole Lucifer deal was...a month ago, or something, not years ago."

"It's not your fault," Dean muttered.

"It is, Dean. I should have remembered. This isn't the kind of thing either of us can just ignore to make it go away."

Dean pulled a face at him. "Why do you care? You're with the Novaks concerning me, I thought."

"You're on their side, too," Sam reminded him. "You did help them escape Lucifer."

Dean scoffed. "And that makes it all better?" He ignored the part of him that felt distinctly warm and fuzzy about how Castiel had come to see how they were doing.

"I think it makes up for trying to get them to say yes. All that was a while ago for them, too." Sam pointed out. "Humans have shorter memory spans."

"Yeah, and now _we _do too," Dean snapped.

Sam didn't seem sure how to reply to that, so he didn't.

Dean wasn't looking, but he heard the heavy weight of footsteps, the creak of the door, and resigned himself to the fact that he was probably going to piss of all of them at one point.

Well. He could live with pissing off Gabriel.

* * *

The elder Novak, however, seemed to mysteriously vanish whenever Dean tried to socialize. It was a coincidence the second time it happened, but Dean started getting suspicious the second time it happened.

"You know he doesn't like you," Castiel said, businesslike. He was washing dishes since, apparently, the Bunker was too ancient to have a dishwasher. "You don't like him, either."

"Yeah, but this is just being petty," Dean complained.

"You're petty," Castiel told him.

"So what?"

"Why do you even want to see him so badly?" Castiel set a dish into the rack next to the sink. There were only four people in the Bunker, but that resulted in a surprising amount of dishes being used.

"I don't," Dean admitted. "I just want him to stop avoiding me."

"I think he's entitled to. What with what you did at the Mystery Spot and all."

Dean winced. "C'mon. That was ages ago. He doesn't even remember it! You're the one who's got a good reason to hate me for that, and you've forgiven me."

"The fact that I have a reason makes him think he's entitled to the same," Castiel said. "Now either shut up and help me or go bother Sam."

* * *

"I don't know, Dean," was Sam's reply.

"He's got to have some reason." Dean refused to admit that he might have whined. "C'mon, you know him better."

"I can't read his mind." Sam looked vaguely irritated. "I would've thought you'd be able to guess on your own."

"Give me a _break, _I can't read his mind either." Not anymore. "And don't talk about body language, 'cause I can't read his body language if I never _see _him!"

"Dean, just chill out! Gabriel's allowed to do other things."

Dean huffed. "Whatever. I just want to know what crawled up his ass."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "Gross. I don't need that mental picture."

* * *

Regardless of his issues with Gabriel, Dean soon found himself confronted with the fact that he had a much more pressing problem to deal with.

Specifically, coping with being human and all that it suddenly required of him. Eating, sleeping for a certain amount of time, remembering to avoid doing things that would hurt his body.

Even _paper _managed to hurt. Paper cuts had been a new - and entirely unwelcome - discovery, and Dean had spent half an hour in the bathroom trying to make it _stop stinging._

In the end he'd had to grudgingly settle for a BandAid and trying to ignore it [which did not work, thanks a _lot _Castiel]. Humanity was infuriating - there was always something he needed to be doing just to keep himself alive, something that was nine out of ten times completely menial and boring.

That, and he was _always _cold.

Blankets didn't help, and Dean took to hanging out wherever there were a few lights on in a vain attempt to warm up a bit. Castiel seemed befuddled by his behavior, but Sam probably kept the hunter from bothering Dean about it.

He probably knew exactly what Dean was going through.

Dean tried to throw himself into helping them find Metatron - that was the endgame, the thing that would fix everything.

Or at least they thought it would, but Dean ignored the chance that it _wouldn't _solve much more than the problem of Metatron running around on his own.

Dean figured that if he had to, he'd beat the answers out of the little shit.

"That's a little _violent,_ don't you think?" A voice drawled _way _too close to him.

Dean nearly jumped out of his seat. "What the _fuck_ \- what are you talking about?" When had _he _gotten there?

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "You said that out loud," he said. "About Metatron, I assume?"

"None of your business," Dean grumbled. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were avoiding me."

"It's called having a life." Gabriel slid smoothly into one of the empty chairs. "Something you seem to be lacking. Castiel made me come because apparently, you have a weird obsession with me and he thinks it'll help."

"I don't - I am not _obsessed _with you," Dean snapped.

"Good news for both of us, then." Gabriel linked his hands behind his head. "What have you been doing that's got my little bro all bothered, then? Coming onto him?"

"Shut up." Dean was reminded of exactly how much Gabriel annoyed him. He was so _confident _in himself even though half the time he had no idea what he was doing.

"Wow, humanity hasn't done much for your retorts, has it?" Gabriel was grinning at him. "You could learn a few things from your brother. He's acclimated."

"I'm not interested in acclimating," Dean said shortly. "We're getting closer to Metatron, anyway."

"Oh, so you're more into denial." Gabriel snorted. "Figures."

"I'm not denying anything," Dean said hotly. "Just leave me alone, would you?"

"Al_right_! Jeez, talk about touchy."

* * *

Gabriel did not leave him alone.

It was like as soon as he'd discovered that it still annoyed Dean, he was there 24/7 - talking animatedly to Castiel about some movie he'd gone to see, spread out on a table with something completely unrelated to whatever hunt might have caught their attention at the time.

Sam didn't seem to mind it as much, to Dean's irritation - he seemed completely fine with Gabriel.

That was another thing - a lot of the time, while Sam was fine with being in Gabriel's company, Gabriel always managed to find a way to be a little _too _enthusiastic about it.

He was always leaning on Sam, over his shoulder to see the computer properly [and apparently Sam was only the one using it in the first place because Gabriel insisted that he needed to learn how to do things the human way] or just hovering over him, propped on one shoulder as soon as Sam sat down.

Sam seemed to think it was just Gabriel being insecure about his height, but Gabriel kept shooting Dean smug, infuriating little looks whenever Sam wasn't paying attention.

_Then _Sam complained about how he was treating Gabriel. "Honestly, Dean, he's letting us stay here. You could at least _pretend _to be grateful."

"I don't have to do anything for that dick," Dean snapped.

"The Bunker is Cas's, too, y'know," Sam pointed out. "He hates whatever the hell you've got going on with Gabriel as much as I do."

"I don't have anything 'going on' with Gabriel!"

"You're in some passive-aggressive who-can-be-more-of-a-little-shit war," Sam retorted. "I know Gabriel's probably just as much at fault, but you could at_ least _not enable him."

"It's not my fault Gabriel's-"

"Don't," Sam cut him off. "Try to act your age for three seconds, Dean. Please."

* * *

Things ended up coming to a head a week or so later.

"Where's Cas?" Dean had shown up to a kitchen of anyone other than Gabriel, who was covering more of the table than the chair he was sitting in.

"I dunno," Gabriel said. "Went out or something. Fancy bonding time for Sam and Castiel. You didn't notice they've been hanging out?"

Dean bit back the retort that sprang to mind. He hadn't noticed - sure, Sam and Castiel had been spending time together, but since when did they go out to 'bond'? "Fine. Whatever. What food do you have in here?"

"Go look," Gabriel told him. "I'm not here to cook for you, so find something I don't need to get involved in."

Dean grumbled under his breath. Rifling through the cabinets provided only a mostly empty box of cereal that looked ridiculously chocolaty and had an expiration date over a year away. "Who eats these things?"

"How dare you insult Count Chocula," Gabriel said, smacking a hand over his heart. He'd spun to watch Dean's progress, chair squeaking like nails on a chalkboard.

"Of course," Dean said under his breath, turning back to face the cupboard and shoving the box back. "You do. Figures."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Dean said, "you're an asshole who's going to kill himself with sugar."

"Best way to go," Gabriel retorted. "Beats getting shanked by some demon or whatever the hell else might happen."

"Could you shut up?" Dean snapped. His body felt like it was lagging several steps behind him, his eyes were _sore _in a weird tingly, sandy way that made him keep rubbing at them, and his stomach felt like a knot in his torso. Humanity sucked ass.

"Why?" Gabriel asked lazily, scooting the chair back around. Dean winched at the ungodly screeching. Even the thunk of Gabriel's heels hitting the table seemed especially irritating.

"Because it's too early."

"It's ten AM, you've had time to wake up."

"Shut _up._"

"Why?"

"Because you're just a fucking human and _I don't have to deal with this._"

"Oh, really?" He could practically hear the raised eyebrow. "Do I need to remind you that _you're _human now?"

"You _need _to _shut up._"

"Nice try. No dice."

Dean turned on his heel, glaring at Gabriel. "Would it kill you to not be a dick for _once _in your life?"

"Probably," Gabriel retorted, cheerfully enough that Dean was sure he was faking. "Good thing I'll never stop, so we'll never have to find out, huh?"

"I don't know what your deal is," Dean growled, "but I'm sick of having to deal with your crap. So cut it out!"

"Why should I?" Gabriel challenged, leaning forward, feet on the ground even though they'd been propped on the table a second ago. "Why should I cut you any slack, huh? What have you ever done for me? Hell, I've done plenty _for _you and you've given me jack squat except what you considered 'lessons' in return!"

"Because you deserved it," Dean snapped. "You deserved every bit of what I said!"

"Says _you_?" Gabriel was on his feet now. "Because _you _think I deserved it? Let me tell you, _Deano, _you don't have _any _idea what the hell I've been through!"

"Like your life is so bad?" Dean snapped.

"Don't you dare presume anything about me." Gabriel's voice was dark and full of menace, and the words resounded oddly with Dean like-

He'd heard Gabriel say that before, but that wasn't-

Dean pressed a hand to his forehead. There was a flash of a brightly colored room he'd never been in - _had _he? - and Gabriel looked surprised, then resigned.

"Aw, fuck," he grumbled. "I really thought this would last longer."

He slashed his hand sideways, and Dean's world dissolved.

* * *

**?**

**Read and review!**


End file.
